


Chrysalism

by Ausp_ice



Series: Chrysalism [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst with a Happy Ending, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Twins, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Modern Mythic AU, Nonbinary Upgraded Connor | RK900, Other, Platonic/Familial Intimacy, There is Cover Art, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 55,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23497261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ausp_ice/pseuds/Ausp_ice
Summary: The year is 2038. 17 years ago, in 2021, magic, sorcery, and supernatural creatures—such as vampires—have come to light, with a mutual agreement between the governing bodies of human and magic society to coexist with as little involvement with each other as possible.Connor and Nines never expected they'd interact with magical society beyond its tangential existence to their nonmagical lives. But all it takes is a single moment for all that to change, setting off a series of events that neither of them could have expected.
Relationships: Connor & Elijah Kamski, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Elijah Kamski
Series: Chrysalism [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790401
Comments: 128
Kudos: 98





	1. Threshold

**Author's Note:**

> _**chrysalism.** n. the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm, listening to waves of rain pattering against the roof like an argument upstairs, whose muffled words are unintelligible but whose crackling release of built-up tension you understand perfectly._
> 
> Hello, everyone! I've been wanting to make a Vampire AU for quite some time, and I have a personal story-world (I and the friends I developed it with call it The Mythic) where it's modern/integrated with mundane society. I'm using a lot of concepts and principles there to develop the world in this, heh. 
> 
> Some extra info:  
>  \- Connor and Nines live in an apartment together while they attend graduate school. Connor is majoring in forensic science, while Nines is double-majoring in art and supernatural studies.  
>  \- Humans can rarely be born gifted with magical talent, completely independently of their lineage. Some say it's a reflection of the soul, not the body.  
>  And of course, there are those who violate the agreements: supernatural beings who attack humans, and humans who might try to hunt down supernatural creatures for their own gain.  
>  \- Authorities in magical society often partner with human police forces to resolve such cases. Hank and Gavin are typically the go-to for supernatural overlap cases—but Hank protests his involvement considerably, ever since Cole died.
> 
> Warning for the chapter: non-consensual blood drinking, with a bit of a pleasure aspect. Also, blood and injury.
> 
> Cover art is posted on dA [here](https://sta.sh/0jz8op4pxix) and as a higher quality video on Tumblr [here](https://ausp-ice.tumblr.com/post/614580213273231360/)! There are also still versions in the description.

Connor is taking a walk in the evening when it happens. 

He likes the quiet. The almost numbing peacefulness that comes from wandering through nearly-empty parks at night. It helps take his mind off the stress of his workload. 

Nines sometimes joined him, but his twin was more inclined to curl up with his tablet at home and sleep at "a reasonable hour, Connor, I'm not nocturnal like you." So Connor usually ended up alone, breathing in the chill of the night. 

Some people might be scared to be alone near midnight. But the area is relatively safe, and he's never had any trouble. Any fear he might've once had has been washed away by the regularity of the undisturbed silence. 

He's broken out of his reverie by a hand on his shoulder, heavy, cold. He snaps around in surprise, only to be met with a pale face, sunken eyes, bleeding with gold. And… fangs, inching out slowly. 

A _vampire?_ He's never met one. Vampires tend to keep to themselves, according to Nines. There are strict regulations about their interactions with human society. 

His eyes dart around, but there's no one here. That was the whole point. "Um, can I help you?" He tries to slide the hand off, but the grip only tightens. 

The vampire's pupils narrow to slits, and he leans in closer—and then he _sniffs,_ and okay, that's enough. Connor shoves him away, which surprisingly works, and hurries to increase the distance between them. 

He fumbles for his phone. "You're not supposed to be here," he says. "Are you new or something?" Nines mentioned something like… "Shouldn't you have your sire with you or—"

The phone flies out of his hands as he goes from standing to pinned on the ground in an instant. He's face down, arms held down by a bruising grip on his forearms. He doesn't even have time to yell before the vampire starts nosing at his neck. "You smell _amazing,"_ the vampire whispers in his ear. 

Connor struggles. He tries to twist, squirm away, but his pitiful human body offers no resistance to the inhuman strength pinning him down. "G-get off me!"

There's a sudden increase in pressure on his left forearm, and he hears a crack. 

The pain comes seconds later, and he can't help the sound that tears out his throat. It's overwhelming. He's never broken a bone in his life, and _nothing_ could have prepared him for how it feels. 

"That's better," he hears from beyond the haze of pain and—tears, he's _crying._ He's scared, he realizes belatedly, the terror and pain clawing their way out of him through broken sobs. 

Sharp points graze against his neck, and he knows exactly what's about to happen. "Don't," he manages to wheeze out. "You'll—you'll be killed. This is—illegal." 

A cold breath huffs against his neck. 

"Please," he begs. 

And then a piercing pain on his neck. He gasps, body seizing—and then groans, as a burning _ecstasy_ forces its way into his senses. 

Nines had told him about this, too. That a vampire's bite usually induces such a feeling. One of the many reasons why it was rare for a vampire to be permitted to directly feed from a live donor. 

It overrides his rational thought, and despite himself, he finds himself falling limp, pliant. 

He can feel the vampire's throat bobbing as he swallows Connor's blood greedily. _Draining_ him. He feels colder by the second. 

Connor turns his eyes to stare blankly at the night sky. It's hard to think, beyond the pain numbed by unwelcome pleasure. 

He wonders how long it'll take for someone to find his body. Maybe the vampire would try to dispose of him to get rid of the evidence, but something tells him that the bloodsucker hadn't thought about it that far.

Connor feels strangely light. Floaty. His grip on reality hangs by a thread. He wonders what would happen if he let go. 

Unbidden, the image of Nines slices its way into his mind. He might be reading, right now, knees pulled up as he stares at his tablet in his nest of a bed. Waiting for Connor to get home, despite his insistence of sleeping early. 

Connor would never be able to see him again. They'd never be able to curl up together, Connor would never be able to play with Nines's hair like he's a giant cat. 

Nines would find him dead, drained of life.

Nines would be alone. 

It's that thought that seizes him. It's that thought that makes him twitch his cold, numb fingers, it's that thought that makes him _burn,_ crying out, as a molten lava pours through every nerve in his body. 

His vision whites out.

He's not sure how long it takes for him to regain his senses. The first thing he's aware of is the dead weight on his back. The second thing is the wetness—on his face, soaking through his clothes. 

The third thing is a rapidly rising pain as the effects of the vampire's venom wears off. He knows, in the next few minutes, it'll probably become unbearable. He needs help. He'll die of shock alone if he blacks out now. 

Connor grits his teeth, and with a monumental effort, he shoves away the weight on his back. He bites back a curse as pain lances up his left arm. 

Right. Broken. At least it's not his dominant arm.

He manages to sit up, past his swimming vision and mounting nausea.

His gaze refocuses on a blood-soaked scene. The vampire looks like he's been impaled by something, a huge blade—blades, multiple, to have wounds that wide. But there's nothing in sight to suggest a weapon, and Connor doesn't have the brainpower to piece together anything right now. 

He takes stock of himself instead—there's blood all over him. A hysterical part of his brain wonders how much of it is his own, stolen and bled out from another body. His neck throbs, still bleeding sluggishly. He presses a hand to it, hissing.

There's an attempt to stand, but his legs fold under him, so he crawls his way to his phone, careful not to jostle his broken arm. The pain is getting harder to ignore. 

He knows he should call an ambulance. The police. Maybe even the supernatural enforcement office. But his fingers traitorously trail to the icon with a familiar face.

His call barely rings for a second before it's picked up.

_"Connor? What is it?"_

"Nines," Connor whispers. _"Nines,"_ a sob tears itself from him.

 _"What happened?"_ The tone becomes urgent. _"Where are you?"_

"I—" he sniffs. "I'm at—the p-park. You know the one." He finds himself listing, and allows himself to slide to the ground. "Nines, it hurts."

He hears the sound of rifling, the clink of his keys. _"Tell me what happened. I'm coming, okay?"_

Connor gives a shuddering breath. "C-can you call an ambulance? There was. There was a vam-nngh." He curls into himself as a wave of pain crashes through him. 

_"... Connor, what's wrong?"_ Fear is clear in his voice now. _"Connor!"_

"I w-was bitten by a vampire," he manages. "It hurts, Nines."

 _"What?"_ And then, _"Shit."_ Nines never curses. Connor can't help but chuckle. _"Connor, this isn't funny. How much did it take?"_

"I dunno," he mumbles. "He's dead now anyway."

_"Wh… how? Was someone else there?"_

"Don't think s-so," Connor closes his eyes. 

_"Okay—okay. I'm going to hang up so I can call for help. I'll call you back after, okay? I'll be right back."_

"Okay," Connor returns in a small voice. 

The line disconnects, and Connor is left on his own again. 

With nothing to distract him, the pain is pulled to the forefront of his mind. It feels like his insides are being set on fire, and he can't help the whimpers that escape him as he curls into himself further. 

It seems to wash in and out like a rising tide—a wave of intensity, drawing back, and then another, worse, seconds later. Until the tide is too high. Until it starts to drown him, pulling him under the tumultuous waves. 

It takes him too long to notice the buzzing in his hand. Too long for his eyes to swim into focus, finally settling on _4 missed calls,_ and then another _Incoming Call: Nines._

Too long for him to get his unsteady fingers to hit the accept button. 

Nines immediately starts saying something, frantic, but Connor can't piece it together. He just sobs, clutching his phone closer. 

Until he stops feeling anything at all.


	2. Echo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 1607

Nines is reading an article about the fae when it feels like all the blood in his body freezes and burns at once. Lights burst behind his eyes, and his entire body jerks. He hears the clatter of the tablet as it falls from the bed to the floor. 

He's not sure how long the feeling lasts, but it fades to nothing just as quickly as it came, and he finds himself staring at the ceiling.

Nines doesn't have the chance to think about what had just happened, because his phone starts vibrating with a call. 

He's starting to get a suspicion, once he sees that it's his brother. "Connor?" he asks, picking up immediately. "What is it?"

The voice that comes through is desperate,  _ broken, _ barely a whisper.  _ "Nines. Nines."  _

A different kind of ice floods his veins. "What happened?" he asks quickly. "Where are you?" 

It takes a second for Connor to respond.  _ "I—" _ a sniff,  _ "I'm at—the p-park. You know the one."  _ He  _ does, _ and Nines regrets not being more insistent on Connor not taking walks alone in the middle of the night. 

There's a shifting sound in the background.  _ "Nines, it hurts." _

Nines is trying very hard not to panic. He immediately grabs his coat and shoves his keys in the pocket. "Tell me what happened." He holds the phone up to his ear with his shoulder as he unlocks the door, "I'm coming, okay?"

A shuddering gasp comes through the line.  _ "C-can you call an ambulance? There was. There was a vam-nngh." _

What? "... Connor, what's wrong?" His brother doesn't answer. "Connor!" 

His next words chill Nines to the bone.  _ "I w-was bitten by a vampire. It hurts, Nines." _

"What?" he says, aloud this time. "Shit," the curse slips out. He hears Connor chuckle weakly in response, and he grits his teeth. "Connor, this isn't funny." Since his brother is mostly lucid, Nines could probably assume he wasn't turned. But… "How much did it take?"

"I dunno," his brother mumbles a response. "He's dead now anyway."

Dead? "Wh… how?" Vampires are notoriously hard to kill. "Was someone else there?"

_ "Don't think s-so." _

Nines is starting to get a very strong hunch about what happened. "Okay—okay. I'm going to hang up so I can call for help. I'll call you back after, okay? I'll be right back."

_ "Okay," _ is all Connor says, and it's all Nines can do to force himself to hang up instead of staying on the line with his brother. 

He goes about calling the ambulance and police with methodical efficiency, even as he leaves his apartment and speedwalks towards the park—nearby, luckily. He already knows exactly what's necessary for supernatural cases, and hangs up as soon as he knows they have everything they need.

Not wasting another second, Nines calls Connor again. 

It rings to voicemail.

Nines feels like he can't breathe. He calls again, and again, and again, until finally,  _ finally, _ Connor picks up.

"Connor! Why weren't you picking up—?" 

Quiet, gasping sobs filter through the phone. 

"Connor," Nines says, again, as he breaks into a run. 

But he doesn't respond to anything Nines says. Nines could only listen to his distressed gasping, could only listen until as the sounds slowed, as they grew weaker and weaker. 

"I-I'm coming, okay? Stay—stay awake, please stay awake,  _ please—"  _

Eventually, he hears a clatter, and he chokes back a sob as he hangs up and runs as fast as he humanly can.

Despite everything, he's not prepared when he arrives. 

He sees two forms, stained with red. One is next to a violent splatter, completely motionless. The clothes are torn and slightly singed, and Nines's hunch becomes a near-certainty. 

He drags his eyes to follow the trailing blood to— 

To Connor, where he's curled up on his side. Phone abandoned, slipped from his bloodstained grip.

He doesn't even think about it. From one moment to the next, he's gone from standing afar to kneeling next to Connor, turning him over. 

His hands come away wet, from the blood soaking through his clothes, but he pays no attention to it, because Connor is  _ cold, _ and there's blood splattered over his face, and his neck is a splotch of crimson against pale, pale skin. 

Nines leans close, putting his ear near Connor's mouth. 

The sense of relief he gets when he detects the faint breath would've been enough to send him to his knees, if he wasn't already on the ground. The suffocating knot of panic in his throat loosens just a bit, and he leans back to inspect the bite wound. Luckily enough, it's pretty clean—if his throat had been torn out— 

Nines stops that line of thought. He presses his hand to the bite, keeping pressure on it, as he checks his phone. The ambulance should be arriving soon. 

He looks back at the vampire, and the strange wounds that killed him. 

Those wounds were caused by magic. He's sure. No weapon is capable of doing that. That can only mean two things: Connor was saved by someone who then ran off, or… 

He just awakened his magic. 

Unlikely, since both of their parents were 'mundane,' but not impossible. Certainly a widely-studied phenomenon. Nines has a suspicion that whatever that cold-hot feeling was, earlier—that might've been his own magic awakening in response.

He recalls some articles—twins, who almost seemed to share a soul— 

Sirens approach in the distance. "They're almost here," he says as he reaches over to brush Connor's hair out of his face—and then freezes, placing a hand on his brother's forehead.

It's burning. 

Nines looks at the vampire, and back to Connor. He immediately runs through what he remembers about turning— 

_ Turning is typically done by giving a human vampiric blood to ingest, and then draining that human of all the blood in their body. The human will experience death, and return as an immortal being. _

_ In the case that not all the blood is drained, there are a few possibilities: _

_ Above a certain threshold, the human may become ill, but eventually recover with no lasting effects.  _

_ Below that threshold, the human blood will war with the vampiric blood. If the human does not perish, this will eventually result in the human experiencing a slow and painful transition to vampirism. While fledgelings made this way typically exhibit better adjustment to their vampiric state, this method is considered cruel, and has been banned by the vampiric community.  _

Nines looks back at his brother. There's a lot of blood, and most of it's from the vampire. The likelihood that  _ none _ of it got into his bloodstream is astronomically low, especially with the open wound on his neck. 

Then—how much blood did he lose?  _ How much? _

Some part of him knows already. 

Enough.

Nines carefully leans down, putting his head on his brother's chest as the tears start to spill. He can hear his brother's heartbeat. How much longer until it stops? 

When the paramedics finally arrive, and pull Nines away, he looks at them and says: "He's going to turn."

The paramedics tell him that there's still a chance he won't. 

They're wrong. Nines can feel it. A transfusion at this point would feed the vampiric blood rather than replenish the human blood.

But there's nothing more to do. He watches as they lift Connor onto a gurney and wheel him towards the ambulance.

"Hey, uh…" Nines turns to an unfamiliar voice, and is met with two new arrivals: a grizzled-looking man accompanied by another sour-looking individual. Both of them glance down at his bloodstained hands and clothes, but graciously don't mention it. "Lieutenant Hank Anderson, DPD. This is Detective Gavin Reed. You're the one that called us, right?"

"Nines Arkay," Nines replies robotically, nodding stiffly. "That's correct."

"Would you be fine telling us what happened?" 

Nines's eyes dart to the ambulance. They're finishing up with loading Connor into the ambulance. "I…" 

One of the nearby EMTs notices, and smiles kindly, "We can stabilize him here. It won't hurt to wait a few more minutes."

Nines closes his eyes and sighs. "Alright," he says, and looks back at the lieutenant. "My brother—Connor—was attacked by a vampire," he says. "I…" Nines rubs a thumb across his knuckles. "I suspect the stress triggered his awakening, and he subsequently k-... lashed out at his attacker." 

"Shit," Detective Reed mutters. "An advent?" 

"He won't be held accountable," Lieutenant Anderson says immediately. 

"I know," Nines says. Even if he hadn't awakened, this was almost certainly self-defense. Not to mention, the vampire would have been executed if he succeeded in killing his brother, regardless.

Nines shudders, pulling his arms around himself. The lieutenant's brow furrows, "Hey—"

"I suspect his awakening triggered mine as well," Nines says, rushed. "We're—twins, and now I—I can feel something. He's going to turn. They won't be able to stop it."

He hears a sharp intake of breath, and looks up to see the lieutenant exchange a look with the detective. The former steps forward, then, gently grabbing his shoulder and leading him towards the ambulance. "Go with your brother. We'll… take care of things here." 

Nines can only nod mutely as he's directed to the passenger's seat. 

He wishes he could sit in the back with Connor, but he knows he can't. So he resigns himself to waiting. 

He raises his hands to press them to his face—but they're covered in blood, so he clenches them into fists and places them onto his lap instead. 

He breathes slowly, deeply, until he doesn't feel like he's about to fall apart. 

_ Keep moving forward. _

He closes his eyes. 

_ There's no going back from here.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know anything about proper medical or police procedures *shrugs*


	3. Vicissitudes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: ~1920

When Connor wakes up, Nines is right there, neatly dressed in one of his black turtlenecks. His tablet is propped on his knee, held with one hand as he reads it, the other laced with Connor's right. The black nails Nines always keeps pristine are cracked and chipped from neglect.

Connor tries to move, or speak, or something, but it feels like his head and mouth are stuffed full of cotton. 

Nines notices, though, and he immediately sets the tablet down on the table, drawing closer to run a hand through Connor's hair. "Hey, Connor," he says, smiling slightly. His eyes are shadowed, exhausted. "They put you on the good stuff. Magic anaesthetics. It works wonders, but you probably can't feel a thing. Do you remember waking up?"

Did he? 

"That's okay," Nines says quickly, seeing what was probably confusion on his face. "It wasn't—you were in pain. It's… been two days."

Connor blinks slowly, twitching his hand in Nines's grip. His brother's smile falters, falls. "You're going to turn. They tried to transfuse some blood into you, and they're hoping that you'll get better, but…" Nines holds Connor's hand up to his cheek. "It won't work," he whispers. 

The knowledge is not as alarming as Connor might expect it to be. Maybe because he's doped on magical drugs. Connor tries to brush his hand against Nines's face, tries to reassure him. 

Nines's face twists. "They can't keep you on the anaesthetic forever. It… messes with you if you're on it too long. When it wears off, it's going to hurt like hell." He sniffs, and squeezes Connor's hand tightly. "I don't know what to do," he whispers. "It's—there's so much." He laughs brokenly. "We… awakened, too. We're advents."

Advents. Normal humans awakened to magic. Nines talked about them a lot—he's always been curious about them. 

"Connor, I… I don't know what's going to happen. Sorcerous vampires aren't common, advent ones even rarer. We're going to have to be properly educated." 

"That's correct." 

If Connor wasn't bedridden and very high, he might've jumped. Nines wasn't afforded that luxury, and startled badly before turning to face the person who had just appeared out of nowhere _._

There's a placid smile on his pale face, stark eyes measuring the two of them. His dark hair is shaved on the sides, the top part pulled into some kind of knot. He's dressed in some kind of stiff-looking suit-ish outfit, with a long black coat going to his knees. 

He looks… familiar…?

"M-Mr. Kamski," Nines stammers, "what are you doing here?"

Oh. _Oh._ Elijah Kamski. The first vampire to reveal himself to the world, instrumental to the transition of society to the way it is now. He's said to have been one of the key players in making the lives of vampires, especially, easier after the reveal. He's since stepped down from the forefront of politics, though. 

"What do _you_ think, Mr. Arkay?" 

"Nines is fine, please," he says, and looks back down to Connor. "Are you going to take us to the Council?" 

Kamski laughs. "No, no, nothing like that. Rather, I am here to present a number of options."

Nines blinks, turning to face Kamski again. "Options?" 

"Correct. First of all, you reported that you were certain your brother would turn, yes?"

"Yes…"

"Well!" Kamski clasps his hands behind his back. "Seeing as he's not undead yet, I figure that the _slower_ process is what's happening here. Normally, I might offer to drain him entirely to accelerate his death," Nines's breath hitches, "But, ah, the combination of being a new fledgeling _and_ a new advent can be remarkably… chaotic." 

"You're suggesting he suffer through the slow transition," Nines says, tightly. "Wasn't it banned? Because of how _cruel_ it is?"

Kamski smiles again, revealing the points of his perfectly white teeth. "It's not well-known, but there are ways to ease the process. I'm not surprised you don't know, despite your field of study."

Nines straightens, looking back at Connor with an almost desperate expression. "Tell me how."

"Give him your blood."

Nines blinks. "What?"

"You're exceptionally lucky in this situation," Kamski starts, picking at his nails. "Did you think you're the first set of vampiric twins? The familiar blood will be accepted as easily as his own." He chuckles, then, putting his hand down. "Not to mention that the blood of sorcerers, especially advents, is particularly potent for vampires."

Connor twitches. Drink _Nines's_ blood? 

"He… doesn't have fangs, yet." Wait, Nines's isn't even complaining, hey— 

"Oh, don't be _dull._ You'd use a feeder, obviously." Kamski opens his hand, black smoke forming and coalescing into some kind of device. It looks like something you'd strap onto your wrist, like one of those portable blood pressure cuffs. Nines hesitates, but holds out his hand after only a few seconds. The vampire waves, and the device floats to Nines, who takes it with a troubled expression. 

He fiddles with the device a bit, before putting it in his lap, falling still. "That can't be all you're here for, Mr. Kamski."

Kamski smiles. "You're right." He looks at Connor, and bows deeply. "You have sincerest apologies." He rises again. "Your sire is… of my bloodline. His sire's sire was my sire." The corner of his mouth lifts in amusement, but quickly turns serious again. "Normally, your grandsire would be the one to train you, since your actual sire is dead. But, ah, Nines here is pressing charges of fledgeling neglect."

Connor looks at Nines. "Don't look at me like that," Nines says darkly. "You were assaulted, fed from, and are currently turning because his sire didn't keep an eye on him." 

Of course Nines is suing a vampire. Connor would roll his eyes if it didn't feel like a monumental effort. 

"Then there's the matter that you seem to have awakened as a powerful sorcerer. I expect Nines has, as well. There aren't too many of us that would be qualified to educate both of you." He smiles, teeth flashing again. "So, I have decided to step up."

"What?" Nines says.

 _What?_ Connor tries to say, but it comes out more as "Whhhmmgh?" 

"If it comes down to it, I expect I'll be able to subdue both of you. So! If the two of you consent, I will become your mentor."

"I—"

"Well," Kamski chuckles, "I say that, but you don't actually have much of a choice. The two of you, Connor especially, are currently a risk to those around you, and I _am_ the most powerful sorcerous vampire available."

Oh, he's got an ego. Connor's not surprised, though.

Nines's throat bobs as he swallows. "What about college? Everything we've worked for? The scholarships?" 

Kamski laces his fingers together. "We can provide all the education you desire. The two of you are magical individuals, now, you realize? Until you can control yourselves, you cannot be allowed to wander the world of the mundane."

Nines closes his eyes. Connor squeezes his hand as tightly as he can, which isn't all that tightly. But Nines squeezes back, and then turns back to him. "I'm sorry," he says. "I'm so sorry."

"N… not… f-fffault." Connor manages, barely. 

Nines breathes out shakily. "Is this… okay?"

That's a loaded question. Frankly, no. Their entire livelihoods are now upheaved, everything's going to be different. Connor's going to slowly become a vampire. But… 

Things will be okay. It'll turn out okay. He has to believe that. 

So Connor squeezes his hand again, and Nines smiles weakly. "Are you okay with Mr. Kamski? I know we've been on our own for so long, but I don't think we can do it alone together this time."

Connor sighs softly, and nods. 

Nines lowers his head, and turns back to Kamski. "We consent," he says. 

Kamski nods. "Excellent. I'll send the formal agreements to your email, later. You can look them over once you're a little more clearheaded. Kindly sign them and return them to me." 

That's—unexpected. Connor thought vampires would use physical paper and magical contracts or something.

Kamski snorts. "Don't look so surprised. We live in a society, it'd be a waste not to make the most of technology. Speaking of," he pulls a bottle from under his coat. If Connor squints, he can read the label: SunAway. "You might need this."

"Oh," Nines says, "right." He takes it from Kamski, and at Connor's expression, he smiles wryly. "Magic vampire sunblock."

He should've known. He _really_ should've known.

"Still," Kamski continues, "Your verbal agreement is enough to get me started. I will assist with moving your belongings to my residence and speak with your university, landlord, the hospital staff. By the end of today, everything should be in order, and I can take you to my place. We can't have a new fledgeling in a human hospital, after all. Even if it's in the supernatural wing." 

"Oh," Nines says, again. "Right."

Kamski's expression finally shifts into something a little kinder. "The transitions from human to vampire and mundane to sorcerer are never easy. But you _will_ make it. I'll make sure of it." He starts to step away, before pausing. "You should feed your brother, Nines. It'll help once the anaesthetic wears off." 

And then he disperses, black coat shifting into smoke before it envelops him completely, and vanishes entirely.

Nines stares at the spot for a moment, and then runs a hand down his face. Stressed. He looks at the device in his hands, and then to Connor.

He wants to tell his brother not to. But both of them know Connor needs it, so he closes his eyes and nods. 

The sounds of rustling filter into his ears, and then a brief silence. A hiss of pain. More rustling, and then a tube is pressed to his lips. He obediently closes his mouth around it, and tries not to think about how he's _taking from Nines—_

It's all he can do not to give an obscene moan as the warm liquid melts over his tongue. He thought it would be gross. Metallic, probably. 

Instead, it's—like a burst of such intense sensation, a flavor he can't name, but it makes him think of snow, rain, quiet foggy mornings. He can—he can feel echoes of emotions. Taut stress, anger, despair, sadness. But also the relief, the love, and the sheer determination to make it through this. 

If there was ever any doubt that he's turning into a vampire, there sure as heck isn't any now. There's no way blood is like this to humans. It—it tastes like _Nines,_ and he can't help his greedy gulps as he clutches at his brother's arm.

Then there's a beep, and the flow stops. Connor whines, eyes fluttering open to see Nines tucking the tube back into its holder… thing. A slot in the device strapped on his wrist. He reaches over to thumb away Connor's tuft of hair, smiling weakly. He looks a little pale, and Connor immediately backpedals, pulling his hand back— "Sorry," Nines says, like he's not the one that just got his blood sucked out, "It stops automatically. Safety measure. Get some rest, okay? I'll be with you when you wake up."

Connor gives a shaky exhale, closing his eyes. _He's_ the one that's sorry. But with the feeling of Nines's fingers carding through his hair and the taste of Nines's blood lingering in his mouth, there's little he can do to resist the request. 

So he catches Nines's other hand in his own, and lets himself drift away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone in the New ERA server (GoldenDaydreams I think) said that Nines is basically a juice box now and I Can't Unsee  
> I'm sorry  
> I had to share


	4. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New home.

Kamski tells Nines that he and Connor should inform any personal friends, family, or other connections what had happened. That they wouldn't be able to come back—at least, not for a long time. 

"There's no need," Nines mumbles, as he lays with his head pillowed on Connor's bed. "It's just the two of us. It's always just been the two of us."

There were a few people they might call acquaintances—people they could hold a casual conversation with in proximity, but never see each other again once they were no longer in the same class. 

"I see." 

"Besides. It's going to be on the news, isn't it? Advents and vampire attacks are rare. Both at the same time…"

"I expect so, yes." A momentary silence. " Are you ready, then?" 

Nines sits up and looks at the vampire. "Yes." 

Kamski's sclera bleed black, pupils narrowing to slits, and shadows spread across the room. Everything is consumed by impenetrable darkness, and then he can't tell up from down, left from right, he's floating and falling and— 

He stumbles onto solid ground, immediately buckling to his knees—but a cold grip catches his arm, preventing him from slamming into the floor. 

"The first time is always the most difficult," Kamski says, pulling him up. "You get used to it fairly quickly."

Nines nods as he gains his bearings, looking around. The space is… elegant, minimalistic. There's little public information on Kamski, but he's surprised at the modernity of the residence. How old is he, anyways? 

The windows are spanning panels of glass, likely charmed to keep out the damaging effects of sunlight, offering a wide view to a river—the Detroit River, Nines presumes. The setting sun casts it in vibrant, warm hues. "Where's Connor?" he asks. 

Kamski chuckles. "Don't want to eat something first?"

Nines purses his lips. 

"Relax," Kamski says, leaning back. "He's in a room down the hall," he gives a vague wave. "But you do need to eat if you're going to feed your brother enough to keep him sane."

Nines can't say anything to that, so he grits his teeth and nods. 

"Elijah, you're home?"

The voice that comes from behind them is light, lilting. Nines turns to see someone with light blonde hair tied in a ponytail, wearing a sleeveless blue dress. She's barefoot, he notices, as she comes closer. 

Chloe, she must be. Her turning process was the first recorded by humans, seventeen years ago. A demonstration, of sorts, for public knowledge. 

There was a whole section on her in one of his classes. It's… strange, seeing her like this. The thought that Kamski offered her like some kind of science experiment, and that she  _ agreed— _ it leaves an undercurrent of uneasiness in him. __

Turning, when consensual, is often deeply personal.

"Hello, Chloe," Kamski smiles at her, just a slight raise at the corners of his mouth. 

"Hello," she echoes. "I have some food ready, like you asked."

"Excellent," Kamski says. "Would you mind feeding my new ward for a moment? There is something I must retrieve."

Ward. Hearing it said out loud feels odd, and Nines shifts the weight of his feet from one to the other.

"You're human?" Chloe asks. At Nines's nod—sorcerers still count as 'gifted humans'—she smiles gently. "Right this way."

As it turns out, Chloe is an excellent cook. "You're an excellent cook," Nines says aloud. 

Chloe smiles a little sadly. "Thank you…" She tilts her head at him. 

"Nines."

"Nines," she says. "I miss it, eating, cooking." She laces her fingers together, eyes falling to the floor. "Sometimes I cook anyways, and send the food to somewhere else so it isn't wasted."

Nines frowns. "Do you regret becoming a vampire?"

She shakes her head. "No. I'm happy to spend my eternity with Elijah."

At this, Nines freezes. The realization crashes through him. Connor's going to be  _ immortal,  _ and Nines— 

A small bottle makes a dull sound as it's placed before him. It's filled with vibrant red gel capsules.

"You'll need this," Kamski says, from where he materialized out of darkness. "Sanguine Draught—blood replenishing potion—in pill form," he chuckles. "Two right after a feeding, no more than six a day." 

Nines takes the bottle in his hand. Potions… he'd learned about them. They're typically only used in magic society, but some have been approved for use in the mundane world, depending on circumstances. "How long do you think it'll take for him to…" he trails off.

"It varies," Kamski says. "But from what I can tell, three to five days." 

Nines squeezes the bottle tightly. 

"Nines." Kamski uses a finger to make Nines face him. "No more than three feedings in a day, and only with the feeder. It won't do either of you any good if you become anemic, and I advise you not to overdose. Understood?"

Nines gives a noncommittal hum, trying to turn away, but Kamski stops him from doing so.  _ "Understood?" _

"Understood," Nines mutters. 

"Good," Kamski says, drawing back. "Follow me." 

Nines obeys, thanking Chloe for the food—she smiles brightly at that—before he gets up to trail after Kamski. They make their way through the empty halls, until they reach a door that Kamski pushes open— 

And there Connor is, lying in bed. Quite a large one, at that. Both of them could fit on it without issue. Nines debates asking if he's getting his own bed, and falls on the side of not doing so. He doesn't think he'll be able to stay apart from Connor for a while regardless.

The blankets and pillows are black—given the aesthetic of the house, Nines isn't really surprised. There are two desks, a wardrobe, some cabinets lining the side of the room. All of the things from their apartment are here, arranged almost uncannily like they were in their previous home.

Right. This… is their home now.

Nines makes a beeline to his brother, climbing up to sit next to him on the bed. He reaches over, brushing Connor's hair away from his face. 

"His arm is healed, by the way."

Nines snaps his head to Kamski, and then back to Connor. He pulls away the blankets to see Connor's left arm, and sure enough—the brace has been removed, and he can't tell that it was ever broken at all. 

"It's likely due to his magic, his budding vampirism, and…" Kamski hums. "Your own magic."

Nines blinks. "Mine?"

"Yes, yours. I doubt you've noticed, but you've been draining your magic energy to him."

"Oh." Nines lets himself sink down, ending up right next to Connor. He laces his hand through Connor's—cold. But not ice-cold. Yet.

"A natural reflex for split-soul twins."

Nines hums. That makes sense. 

Kamski snorts. "Alright, I'll leave you two be. If you need my assistance, just call my name, it'll be projected to me from anywhere in the house."

Nines hums again, and Kamski huffs in quiet amusement, shutting the door. 

He's not sure how long he stays there, drifting on the precipice of awareness. 

But reality snaps back like a rubber band when he hears a gasp, and the grip on his hand goes from limp to bruising in an instant. He jerks up, and Connor is clawing at his chest—over his heart—eyes wide open and staring at nothing, mouth gaping in voiceless gasps. 

Nines curses internally. At least it's not his feeding arm that's trapped in Connor's grip. He manages to activate the device with his chin, ignoring the sharp jab of the internal needle as it punctures his vein, and removes the tube with his teeth. He grabs at it with his fingers, twisting awkwardly, but he gets it eventually—and then sticks it into Connor's mouth. 

Connor freezes immediately, blinking rapidly. And then he slowly relaxes, his eyes falling shut as he closes his mouth around the tube and starts to sip. 

Nines must have closed his eyes at some point, because the next thing he knows, Connor's shaking him. "Nines? Nines, are you okay—"

The frantic tone makes Nines snap his eyes open, and he jerks up from where he'd been laying his head on Connor's chest. His vision immediately starts to swim. "Ugh." He hasn't actually taken any of the potion yet, has he? "Sorry, just. One second." 

He takes both his hands back, quickly tucking the tube back into the feeder, before fumbling in his pockets for the pills. Once he finds it, he immediately pops off the cap and pours two of the capsules into his hand. He frowns. He doesn't like taking pills dry— 

"Here, Nines. It was on the bedside table." Connor's holding a glass of water, and Nines trades him the bottle for it. Without further ado, he knocks back the pills. 

Connor trades him back the cup for the bottle, and Nines screws the cap back on, putting it away as Connor returns the cup to the table. 

"Nines?" Connor asks quietly, facing him. "Where are we? What did you just take?"

Nines sighs, flopping down next to Connor. "Kamski's place. Our… new home. Those were blood-replenishing potion pills." 

"Oh," Connor says, eyes darting down. "Sorry, I—"

"Don't apologize," Nines interrupts tiredly. "This situation is just… entirely out of our control. But I'm going to do everything I can to make it easier for you, okay?" Nines buries his face into Connor's shoulder. "It's going to get worse, and I don't—" He seethes. "If my blood can make it stop for a bit, then I'll give you as much as I can." 

Connor grips him tightly. "I won't be able to refuse, will I?"

"No. I'm only allowed thrice a day, anyways." 

Connor sighs, pulling Nines's head under his chin as they curl around each other. "How long will it take?"

"Three to five days," Nines answers, muffled. 

"Okay," Connor says. "We'll make it through this. I'm gonna be okay, Nines."

Nines responds only with the tight grip of his embrace and the tears staining Connor's neck.


	5. Metamorphosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: ~2800

It takes four more days. A total of six days from the attack. 

After Nines falls asleep in Connor's arms, he spends… a few hours, probably, staring at the ceiling, absently fiddling with Nines's hair. 

His entire body aches. A cold-yet burning sensation, rooted deeply in his heart, radiating to every nerve ending in his body. Momentarily dulled, but slowly ticking up in intensity again. 

His arm is healed, too, which is interesting. He'd say it doesn't hurt, but everything hurts, so.

"Hello, Connor." 

Connor blinks, turning to see Kamski standing at the door. "Hello, Mr. Kamski," he says.

The vampire seems amused by his response, somehow. "I see you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"Everything hurts and I'm dying," he says. 

Kamski snorts. "Yes, I suppose that is true." He draws closer, sitting at the foot of the bed. Watching the two of them. 

"Why are you doing so much for us?" Connor asks. "You don't… you feel like the kind of person that doesn't really do things out of the goodness of your heart. Not entirely, at least. And I'm sure you could've found _someone_ else to take us."

Kamski smiles. "Why indeed?" He looks away. 

He stays like that long enough that Connor figures he isn't going to elaborate, but: "I suppose I wanted to."

"Why, though?" Nines mutters, face still pressed to Connor's shoulder. Connor suspects he's been awake for most of the conversation.

Kamski doesn't seem surprised, only tilting his head. "Curiosity, perhaps. Your cases are… interesting." He looks like he might say more, but simply turns away.

Nines sits up, then, and they exchange a glance. Connor gets the feeling there's more to it. 

"Are you hungry, Connor?" Kamski asks. He smiles wryly. "It's the last few days you'll be able to eat human food. Well, you still can, afterwards, but you'd have to purge anything beyond a taste test. It's not pleasant."

That's… terrifying, somehow. It's so _concrete._ His humanity is slipping through his fingers, and he'll be undead within the week. "Not really, but I think I want to eat anyway," he says. 

He meets Chloe, then. 

"Connor, right?" she asks, tilting her head. "I'm Chloe! It's nice to meet you. Is there anything you want in particular? I'm sure I can make do." 

She can, in fact, make do. The chicken pot pie she makes is _delicious._ Connor cries a little, and Nines hugs him. 

Only a few minutes later, the ache flares into a piercing pain, and Kamski takes them back to their room. 

He falls asleep with Nines's blood in his mouth once more. 

* * *

The next day, after he drinks from Nines again and recovers lucidity, Nines takes his pulse, a tight expression on his face as he watches his phone timer. 

"40 beats per minute," he says. 

Bradycardia, and it's only been three days since the attack. Great.

They sign the mentorship papers that morning, Nines talking Connor through the logistics of it. 

"He'll be responsible for teaching us how to handle our powers, and will be liable for our well-being and any harm we might cause others due to our new… status. We'll remain his dependents for at least ten years, after which we are considered to decide whether we continue or become independent."

It's all pretty straightforward. It doesn't even take them half an hour to get through it all. 

They go eat breakfast—Chloe makes an amazing omelette, and Connor is sure to savor every bite of it. 

Kamski brings them to the living room, then. "What do you know about vampirism, Connor?"

"Not as much as Nines," Connor answers, "But more than most people, I think." 

Kamski nods. "I'd expect as much." 

What follows is a brief overview of basic vampirism. "To prepare you."

He's already figured that vampires can't eat human food and can't go out into the sun without the… sunblock, at least.

"There are various strains, some of which are more resistant to sunlight. Our bloodline would not turn to ashes immediately, but you _would_ get some rather nasty burns." 

Normally, the amount Connor's taking from Nines for each feeding would be able to last a vampire a week or so. It's just because he's in the middle of turning that he needs so much. He'd also, apparently, need more if he was injured or used magic. 

As it turns out, garlic is _not_ poisonous to vampires. It's just that fledgelings can be hypersensitive to the smell. "We can taste it, actually. In the blood. Some like it, some don't. Rumors say that the stereotype was spread by particularly dastardly vampires that wished for humans to, hm, season themselves." 

Vampire conspiracy theories. Cool. Nines looks like he's not sure whether he wants to laugh or throw something. 

Kamski continues. Vampires have a decreased sensitivity to pain, but getting stabbed in the heart and having limbs torn off would definitely hurt. Dismembered limbs can be reattached, which is just _fantastic,_ and drinking blood would be able to accelerate healing enough to survive being stabbed through the heart. "Beheading is hard to recover from, though." Kamski laughs. 

Wood and silver are fine, unless they're imbued with holy magic. "Light magic built on belief," Kamski calls it. The true weakness of vampires, as creatures of darkness. Injuries caused by light magic are very damaging, and those caused by holy magic in particular are exceptionally difficult to heal. "If you are injured by holy magic, you must seek assistance immediately. Many of our kind have survived such encounters, but only with the right help."

And then, he turns to fledgelings. "The thirst will be immense, but not nearly as intense as it would be if you were turned in the standard procedure. The hunting instincts will kick in fairly quickly, as well." 

"Would it… be dangerous for me to stay with Nines?"

Kamski hums. "There _is_ a risk. But in cases of vampire-human twins, it's not uncommon for the pair to stay together regardless. Split-soul twins, especially—the instinct of keeping each other safe tends to override the instinct to hunt and feed. So, the choice is up to you two."

"We're staying together," Nines says. 

"He might bite you. He won't _kill_ you—he'll likely stop on his own, and I'll step in otherwise, but are you certain? The venom isn't always a welcome experience."

"Yes."

Nines was always completely immovable when he knew what he wanted. Connor doesn't try to dissuade him. 

The slight smile Kamski gives makes Connor suspect the vampire already knew what Nines's answer would be. 

"Vampire bites heal a lot faster than most wounds," Kamski adds. "Our saliva—which is sterile, by the way, as is everything else in our bodies—has a healing factor, and it's more effective the more exposure a donor gets, and the more powerful a vampire is. It's not uncommon for the bite to heal within a few hours, or even instantaneously, in my case." 

That's pretty nice to know. 

Soon, though, Connor starts hurting badly enough that it detracts from his focus. It's only been three or so hours, and they've agreed to do six-hour intervals to space it out. 

He informs Kamski of this, who nods. "We can continue after you feed again, but that was most of the crucial information. Unfortunately, I doubt you'll have very long windows of lucidity, soon." 

Connor and Nines return to their room. They curl up in bed, hands clasped together, Connor's head against Nines's chest. He can hear the heartbeat, regular, vibrant, _alive._

They stay like that for a bit, Connor twitching at every wave of increasing pain, until something occurs to him. "Hey, N-Nines?" 

"Mm?" Connor feels the vibrations in his chest. 

"When's the last time you drew something?" 

Nines takes a few seconds to answer. "The day you were attacked." 

Ah. Nines typically drew to destress. If he doesn't give himself a chance to unwind, he's going to snap. "Can you… draw something now?" 

"I… could," he says haltingly. 

Connor squeezes their hands together. "C'mon, lemme see you draw."

Nines sighs, as if reluctant, but his lack of hesitation in unthreading his hands from Connor's and reaching for his tablet is telling. 

They resituate themselves. Connor's still laying his head against his brother's chest. Nines hooks the arm holding the tablet over Connor's shoulder, holding the screen so he can see, before sliding the stylus out of the side and opening his art program. 

It's always mesmerizing to watch, and it helps Connor focus on something other than the rising tide within him. Nines always draws quickly, efficiently. No hesitation. In minutes, vague sketches have turned into distinct forms. A silhouetted shape, pierced by long lines of black. Abstract parallel lines falling from a ring of vibrant red give the impression of dripping blood. 

A nameless feeling. His emotions, out on the screen. Connor breathes out shakily, wrapping his arms around his brother's torso. Nines hums softly, closing the file and opening another new one.

And so it goes. Until the shapes start to blur, until he's clawing at Nines's shirt, whimpering, and he feels Nines move away for a moment—but quickly come back, reassuring, wrapping arms around him. 

The whimpers become gasps, and then sobs, and then he's trying his hardest not to _scream_ at the pain lancing through his chest, the new ache in his mouth, the burning in his eyes. 

And then finally, _finally,_ there's a tube on his lips, and the rush of _Nines_ washing through him. The agony curls somewhere deeper in him, submerged, for now, in the comfort of his twin. 

"28 beats per minute," Nines informs him, with a trembling voice and trembling grip. 

Kamski asks, after they eat again, "What do you two know about sorcery?"

"The magic of humans with inherent magical potential," Nines answers. "It will have a certain tendency for each person, often reflective of an elemental affinity, such as nature, light, darkness. Raw magic materializations will take that form, but we can still cast spells of other affinities, with a little more effort."

"Very excellent, Nines." Kamski nods. "Natural-born sorcerers have the advantage of honing their magic from an early age. The magic of advents is, essentially, a mass of unrefined power. Untapped, it grows unseen until awakening. This makes it much harder for them to control their magic at first, seeing as they don't have the luxury of their experience growing analogously to their raw power."

After seeing them nod, he continues. "At this point, your magic will act mostly on reflex. Once you familiarize yourself with the feeling of calling your power, you'll be able to control it better." He turns to Connor. "Since your magic is tied to your brother's, you won't have to worry about harming him accidentally as you adjust to your vampirism. It'd almost be like attacking yourself."

Kamski tells them a bit about magic itself, then. How their souls transform internal energy into external power. There _are_ sorcerers that can use external forces, forming pacts with powerful beings or tapping into the natural energies of the world, but: "Pacts come with a price, and becoming a nature sage is an arduous process. Your own abilities are sufficient."

It's very interesting and probably important, but Connor phases out at some point, pulled under the depths of reverberating aches. He only realizes when Nines starts patting his face. "Connor?" 

He tries to focus, but Nines's face swims nauseatingly in front of him. Nines and Kamski say a few things, and then—everything goes dark. He's completely weightless—and then he falls onto something soft. 

Part of him is vaguely aware that it's his bed, as he clutches his heart and grips his mouth, gritting his teeth against the cresting pain. 

He's wrapped in familiar arms, and enveloped in a familiar scent. Nines. _Nines, it hurts so much._

"Shh, I've got you, okay? Just hold on…" 

He somehow manages to slip into unconsciousness.

* * *

As Kamski said, the spans of lucidity are quickly snatched away. 

The next morning, Nines takes his pulse again. "15 beats per minute," he informs Connor.

Kamski doesn't give them any lessons that day. "I doubt we'll get far," he says, smiling humorlessly.

They end up sitting against the headboard of their bed, browsing Nines's tablet. Nines makes a few aimless doodles. 

The pain drowns him again.

Nines feeds him.

Rinse, repeat. 

Chloe shows him an indoor garden she has. It's enclosed by glass on all four sides, and full of all kinds of plants. "If you want to go in, you'll need to put on sunblock," she says. "The artificial light can still be harmful to us if we're exposed too long."

She proceeds to make an amazing dish just from the plants in the garden. "I'm really happy to have you boys around," she laughs. "I finally have a decent excuse to cook."

It'll only be for Nines soon, though.

He lasts only about an hour before he's writhing in his brother's arms again. 

* * *

On day five from the attack, he wakes up screaming. It feels as though he's been frozen alive, then stabbed with a hundred burning spears. His mouth feels like someone's twisting a knife in his teeth, and even the low light of the room seems blinding, searing his eyes. 

He sobs once he tastes the blood in his mouth. The flavor is tainted with stress and exhaustion, and he knows, he _knows_ Nines is pushing himself, mentally, physically. He hates it. 

Nines holds him against his shoulder, and he feels the pressure on his wrist again. "... eight beats per minute," he says, after a bit.

Neither of them leave the room that day. Nines calls for Kamski and asks if they could have food brought to their room, instead. 

Kamski brings it himself, setting it on the bedside table before sitting on the edge of their bed. "It's soon," he says. 

Connor feels the shift of Nines's head as his brother nods. He's too tired to do anything but lie limply in Nines's arms. 

A hand brushes over his forehead, pleasantly cool. Starkly different from Nines's vibrant warmth. 

"Tomorrow," Kamski says softly, and then leaves. 

Connor tries to eat something, but gives up quickly. He doesn't have an appetite anymore. 

For human food, at least. 

He recalls the day in fragments, later. Clinging to his brother, clawing at his back. Begging anyone, anything, to make it stop, _make it stop, please, please—_

He remembers Nines on his back. Hands pinning unresisting wrists. Nosing at his neck, breathing in the scent of crisp mornings. Feeling a sudden urge to pull away that turtleneck, to open his mouth and— 

He doesn't. He shudders, and muffles his keens in the cloth. 

He remembers the all-too-short respite after another feeding. Eyes closed, body still. Nines runs his hands through his hair, down his arms. He savors the sensations. 

Everything else is only a shattering agony.

* * *

On the sixth day, he wakes up without pain. He opens his eyes to their dimly lit room, every detail cast in sharp contrast. 

His mouth burns with a strong, strong thirst. He swallows dryly. 

Nines stirs next to him, the movement washing his scent, so much clearer now, over Connor. The crisp air after snow, after rain. His twin sits up slightly, and when he meets Connor's eyes, his face flickers with something indecipherable. 

He pulls the sleeve back on his right wrist, pressing a button on the device strapped there. He lifts the tube to Connor's mouth, and, as before, Connor closes his mouth around it and sips. 

The movement makes him aware of the new points in his mouth—but he's immediately overtaken by the familiar-unfamiliar taste of Nines's blood, eyes fluttering shut as he exhales through his nose. If he thought it was intense before, it's even more so now. A flavor he can only name as _Nines._ It hums with energy, resonating with something within him. Filling a _need,_ new and unfathomable.

A pressure on his wrist. A beep, and the flow of blood stops, the tube is withdrawn. Connor opens his eyes to see Nines staring blankly at where he's grasping Connor's arm. 

His twin turns, meeting Connor's eyes again. "Zero," he says.

Then, his face crumples, and he lets go of Connor's wrist to hold his hands over his mouth. His shoulders shake as he curls into himself, making a choked, broken sound. 

Connor sits up and wraps his arms around his brother, pulling Nines's head under his chin. 

A sob, and then more, cascading in desperate gasps. The noisiest Nines has ever been, his entire body shaking with the force of his grief. 

Connor closes his eyes, squeezing tightly.

Holding Nines together as he finally lets himself fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nines's piece is posted [here](https://sta.sh/0wrvq5hk0is)!


	6. Acclimatization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: ~4000  
> *laughs* that got real long real fast
> 
> Fun facts that I'm not sure will ever come up in the story but want to share anyway: Nines identifies as masculine nonbinary (still uses he/him), and both Connor and Nines identify as ace/aro-spec.  
> I'm using the same orientations as in my [Ascendant series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629997) \- Nines is repulsed by both romance and sex, while Connor wouldn't mind them but doesn't experience attraction for them. I do explore those identities in [Considerations,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23003482) one of the fics in the series, if anyone would like to take a look.

Connor's embrace is cold. At least, it _was—_ until Nines's body heat seeps into him, and he feels the echo of his own warmth. He breathes slowly, if at all. Like he keeps forgetting to do so. 

He's still rubbing comforting circles into Nines's back, even though the crying has stopped twenty or so minutes ago. 

Despite himself, Nines feels a little embarrassed for breaking down so badly. He's _never_ been so… vocal. 

He forgives himself for it, though.

Considering his twin just died. 

The emotions that ripped through him are calmer, now. Back to simmering, back to roiling currents hidden under the placid surface. Back to where he can keep them at an arm's length. 

He lets out a sigh and pulls himself away, meeting Connor's eyes. They're back to normal, mostly, from what they looked like when they first woke up. The molten gold of his irises has returned to warm brown, and the razor-thin slits have widened into a shape that looks human enough at a cursory glance. 

His skin is pale, frozen from now to eternity. His brows are furrowed in a worried expression, and his lips are parted slightly, revealing the points of his new fangs. 

He can't help himself—he reaches forward to ease Connor's mouth open. His brother only blinks in surprise, before pulling his lips back and baring his fangs for Nines to see. 

They're noticeable, but still fairly small. They'll lengthen for feeding—one of many physiological shifts that vampires exhibit when 'active.' Nines runs a finger against the tip of one, just enough to feel the sharpness and not pierce himself. 

When Nines pulls back, he notices Connor watching him intently. His brother closes his mouth. Opens it—closes it again, and then—"You're not scared?"

Nines blinks. "No. Of course not."

Connor bites his lip, the tip of a fang visible as it presses into the skin. "I almost…"

"Not of you, Connor," Nines interrupts, putting his hands on Connor's shoulders. "Never _of_ you. _For_ you, perhaps a little too much." 

His brother's breath catches, and his eyes fall. Nines lifts his hands to frame Connor's face, fingers threading through the soft hairs at the back of his neck. Pulling him close, forehead to forehead. "I'm right with you," he murmurs. "No matter what."

Connor's eyes slip shut. Fingers press into Nines's arms. 

Eventually, he leans away, fingers unclenching, smoothing into a lighter contact. "C'mon," he says softly. "You should take your meds." 

Nines sighs and nods, pulling away and scooting to the edge of the bed to retrieve the bottle of pills—significantly emptier, at this point—and the glass of water they always keep there. 

He's just finished downing them when he notices Connor turn to something behind him. Nines follows his gaze, and there Kamski is. He's dressed in a slightly more casual robe reminiscent of Japanese dress, hands crossed in front of him. "You're awake," he says, a neutral smile barely present on his face. "I see your turning is complete, Connor. How do you feel?" 

"Different." Connor's thumb traces circles on his arm. "Everything is… sharper. Sights, smells, sounds." He swallows. "And… it's not that bad right now, but. Thirsty."

Kamski nods. "The worst of it will pass within a week or so. Strictly speaking, you don't need to feed more than once every few days, but you may wish to do so in order to quell the thirst. As before—no more than thrice a day."

"Right," Connor replies. 

Turning to Nines, Kamski addresses him next: "And you, Nines? How do you feel?"

Nines looks down at his hands, taking a moment to consider himself. "Exhausted," he decides. The lack of proper sleep and constant draining of his blood wasn't conducive to his wellness. "I think I could sleep like the dead."

A cough sounds in front of him, and he looks up to see Kamski holding his knuckles to his lips, an amused expression on his face. "I suppose it's ironic, then, that you're the only one in this house that sleeps like you're alive."

The corner of Nines's mouth twitches. Connor is less reserved, letting out a snort. It really _shouldn't_ be funny, but, well.

"The two of you may use your time as you wish, today," Kamski says, having recovered his neutral expression. "You may now reap the benefits of your slow transition," he waves a hand magnanimously, "and spend your first day _not_ trying to stick your shiny new fangs in anything with a heartbeat." 

Connor gives an awkward smile, like he's not sure what a proper response is. "Neat," is all he manages. 

"Mmm. Nines?" 

He looks back up as Kamski voices his name. "You should get some rest," the vampire says, not unkindly, as he turns away slightly. "We'll start educating the two of you tomorrow." With that, he dissolves into darkness, leaving them alone once more.

Nines heaves out a sigh, flopping onto his back and closing his eyes. Now that he's paying attention to it, he really _is_ tired. Strung out. 

He feels the bed shift, and then—the comforter being pulled over him. Pleasantly chill fingers slide through his hair, just enough pressure against his scalp to pull him into the floating bliss of the ministrations. He hums, allowing himself to drift. 

They stay like that for a while. It could have been minutes or hours, Nines never really had much of a presence of mind like this. He might've even fallen asleep in the middle somewhere. Probably did.

But at some point, he becomes aware of the movements stopping, the bed shifting as the weight by him moves away. He hears some fumbling sounds, distant in his mind, before the fingers are back in his hair. He lets out a sigh, pressing his face into the soft pillows. 

There's a sound of surprise, drawing Nines out of his haze enough to make a muffled, sleepy, questioning sound in return. 

"Josh texted me." 

With some monumental effort, Nines manages to peel his eyes open. Connor is sitting next to him, right hand still in Nines's hair, forgotten, while he thumbs at his phone with his left. It was turned off before—he must've switched it on just now. He glances to Nines, seeing him stare at the screen, and lowers it so Nines can see.

**Maybe: Josh**

**_3 days ago_ ** **_  
_** **_7:02 pm_ **

_Hey, Connor, it's Josh. I  
_ _heard about what happened,  
it's all over the news. I guess  
you won't be having to worry  
about that assignment, huh? _

_I'm… really sorry. I hope you  
and your brother are doing okay. _

**_2 days ago_ ** **_  
_** **_10:21 am_ **

_Listen, uh_

_I don't know how everything  
works exactly _

_You have to get mentored or  
something, right? _

_but I know some people that  
might be nice for you two to  
meet at some point. _

_They're twins_

_They're vampires, too_

_I don't think they're sorcerers,  
though. _

_Sorry, I'm spamming, aren't I?_

_Hope you two are okay._

Nines blinks slowly as they reach the bottom. 

"Josh TAs for one of my classes," Connor says, brow furrowed. "But we… I didn't think anyone would… bother." 

Nines wraps an arm around his brother, ignoring the way his brother's body drains the heat of his own. "Did you talk to him a lot?"

"I mean, I guess," Connor mumbles. "During office hours and all. He's easier to talk to than a lot of others." 

Nines hums. "Do you want to meet whoever he's talking about?"

At this, Connor looks at him. "Do you?"

Nines exhales slowly. He's curious, of course. He wonders if one of the twins turned first, or if they turned at the same time. He wonders how they dealt with… everything. "I think so," he says. "If you're okay with it." 

"Yeah," Connor says. "I think I want to, too." 

"Suppose we should ask Mr. Kamski about the logistics of it…" Nines sits up, shaking off the last of the blissful haze over his mind. "Mr. Kamski?" he asks, to the empty room. 

The lights dim for a moment, and shadows coalesce into the already-familiar form of their new mentor. He raises an eyebrow at them, folding his arms behind himself. "Yes, Nines?" 

Nines holds out his hand for Connor's phone. His brother passes it over without complaint, and Nines holds it out to Kamski. 

The vampire steps closer and takes it from Nines's hands, scrolling through the messages. He hums, and hands the phone back to Nines, who hands it back to Connor. "I'll have to teach you basics, first," he says. "And then the two of you can meet with the vampires, but not—Josh is human, I presume?" Connor nods, and he continues: "Yes, you won't be able to meet with him in person for quite some time yet."

"Okay," Connor says. "How long would the basics take?" 

Kamski raises an eyebrow. "That depends on how quickly the two of you can learn. We'll need to go over handling your vampire characteristics, and get you started on conscious control of magic. For the average individual, it might take a week or two." 

Nines hums. "I see…" He looks at Connor, who looks back. He must see what Nines is thinking on his face, because he frowns severely. 

"Nines…" he starts.

"It'd be more efficient if we got started today, then, wouldn't it?" Nines doesn't break their gaze. 

Connor's face pinches. "Nines, you need a break—"

"It's three PM." He saw the time on Connor's phone, earlier. "I've been idle for most of the day already."

Connor groans. "I can't believe you're a workaholic for this, too." He shoots an almost pleading look at Kamski, who only raises an eyebrow. 

"It makes no difference to me," he says. "If you wish to, we can start today."

Connor twists his fingers together, and Nines knows he's craving a coin. "Is it anything strenuous?"

Kamski lifts a single shoulder in a half-shrug. "No, not particularly."

"Then there's no harm." Nines turns back to his brother and holds his hand out to him. "Come on." 

Connor sighs heavily, but slides his— _icy—_ hand into Nines's. He lets himself get pulled to a standing position as Nines slides out of bed, and they stand before Kamski. "We'd like to start today," Nines tells him. 

The look on Kamski's face is pleased. "Excellent." 

* * *

Connor sends a reply to Josh, telling him that they're interested—and that they're okay. 

Without waiting for a reply, they take the moment to clean up: Nines showers first, and then goes to eat while Connor takes his turn. 

He comes up behind Nines as he's browsing his tablet at the dining table, freshly dressed in a red sweater. A contrast to the dark blue turtleneck Nines had chosen. 

When Connor slides his fingers on the back of Nines's neck—something he'd do with a smug grin on his face when he came home on wintry days, sometimes—Nines is surprised that they're not ice-cold. They're _warm._

Connor meets his wide eyes with an almost fragile smile. "Looks like taking a hot shower lets me be warm again for a little while." 

Nines takes Connor's hands in his own, running his thumbs across his brother's knuckles, until the warmth fades to a neutral chill again.

They then meet Kamski in a large, empty room, paneled by glass on two sides—darkened, at the moment. The air seems to hum with… something. 

"Spells and wards, to minimize damage from stray magic," Kamski answers the unspoken question on Nines's face. "Though I'm surprised you can sense them already." 

Interesting. 

"I'll focus on sorcery during the daytime," Kamski says, "And at night, if you wish, Connor, we can focus on vampirism while Nines sleeps."

Connor looks at Nines, hesitation clear on his face. "I don't… can I still sleep?"

"You can. It's not necessary, but it _does_ improve your mood and general wellbeing." 

"Oh…" Connor fiddles with his fingers. "I don't know if I…"

"I wish to be present in the vampirism lessons as well," Nines says, laying a hand on Connor's shoulder. "If it's not too much trouble."

The look on Connor's face seems almost relieved, and Nines knows he's made the right choice. Kamski simply shrugs. "As you wish. I will leave the two of you be in the evening, then."

They go to the middle of the room. "As you know," Kamski starts, "sorcerers have natural affinities." He lifts a hand, and black smoke curls around it. "I have an affinity to darkness, which matches well with the nature of vampires. One of the reasons I took so well to my turning."

He turns to Connor. "In addition to your own affinities, vampirism more or less comes with innate abilities related to dark magic and blood magic. Still," he looks back at Nines, "Knowing the natural bias of your souls will certainly allow me a better sense of how to structure your magical development."

Nines gives a considering hum. "Would we have similar affinities? If we are split-soul twins?"

Their mentor shakes his head. "Not necessarily. Development diverges early." 

"Split-soul twins?" Connor tilts his head.

"Ah, yes," Kamski laces his fingers together, smiling slightly. "I suppose Nines _is_ the more supernaturally informed one, here. In a way, the two of you are like identical twins in soul. One soul was conceived, and split into two bodies available, diverging into separate entities from that point onwards. It's not very common. Perhaps one in a hundred twins." 

Connor blinks, opening his mouth and looking at Nines. "Oh," is all he says, quietly. 

Kamski then pulls out what appears to be a glass orb. "This is an affinity gauge," he says, as he places it into Nines's hand. "It will manifest matter or energy based on the affinity of magic it absorbs."

"How do I activate it?" Nines asks. 

Kamski extends a hand. "I can help you, this time. After this, you should be able to get a better sense of what it feels like." 

Nines nods, and then takes Kamski's hand—hands clasping each other's wrists. The chill seeps into his skin at the contact. Kamski closes his eyes, and Nines follows. And then there's a strange… digging, sensation, almost, and it's all he can do not to shy away—

He jerks, inhaling sharply and eyes snapping open as _something_ is set alight within him. He barely manages to keep his hand on the orb as Kamski immediately lets go of his hand to stabilize him by the shoulders, before pulling back.

Nines focuses on the orb, watching, fascinated, as frost starts to curl on the surface, and mist blossoms from inside. He can feel a curious tugging sensation within him—his magic being drawn by the orb, perhaps? 

He focuses on that sensation, chasing it back to its source. There's something else, there… he prods at it, curious, and— 

The mist in the orb curls into an abyssal darkness, swallowing any light that attempts to breach it. 

"Fascinating," Kamski breathes. "Multiple affinities. Water, cold. And imagine that—a secondary affinity to darkness." he gives a breathy laugh. "Of the two of you, you perhaps would have taken to vampirism better than your brother."

Nines hums and looks up at Connor, who's watching with a curious expression. Nines gives a questioning tilt of his head, and his brother blinks. "Oh, just—I'm not surprised, is all. You smell like snow and rain. Petrichor. And you kinda hate the sun." 

He supposes he wouldn't know about the scent, but he _has_ made it a point to avoid exposure to the sun's rays as much as possible… 

Kamski plucks the orb from Nines's hands, and it returns to a neutral state in seconds. "Your turn, Connor. I am quite curious, now." 

His brother obediently opens his hand to let Kamski drop the orb in it, and holds out his other for Kamski to take. Like with Nines, Kamski closes his eyes, and Connor does the same. 

Unlike with Nines, Kamski jerks back, dispersing into black smoke as a burst of brightness shatters the orb in Connor's hands.

Connor blinks at the remains in shock, gold bleeding away from his eyes, slits widening back to normal. Flecks of warm yellow glow faintly around the shards—some of which are on _fire._

The smoke of Kamski's dispersed form settles some distance away, and re-forms into their mentor, looking as unruffled as ever. 

Well, almost. He, too, looks at the remains of the orb with a surprised expression. And then he gives a disbelieving laugh. "Heat and—unbelievable. Light." He shakes his head. "Do you even realize…?" He approaches, waving a hand. The broken shards gather themselves in a whirl of smoke, disappearing into nothing. "Vampires that can use light magic are nearly unheard of. It's far more likely for the magic to be incompatible, to fatal results. If not that, they might lose their magic as it neutralizes with the dark nature of vampirism."

"Oh," Connor says in a small voice.

"But you seem perfectly stable." Kamski approaches him, looking at him like a specimen on a table. Nines immediately steps closer to his brother, laying a hand on his arm.

Kamski blinks, and that unnerving look loses some of its intensity. He places a hand on his chin. "I wonder," he mutters, eyes flicking between the two brothers. "Hm. Will you allow me to test something? I would require your blood. Both of yours."

An uneasiness curls in Nines's gut. "What do you need to test?" 

"A theory," Kamski says. His expression has become… concerned? No, that doesn't seem quite right. Troubled? "It may affect certain plans I had in mind for your development." 

"I'm fine with it," Connor steps forward, tugging at Nines's arm. "Nines, it's better to know more than less."

Well, that—he can't disagree. He sighs, facing Kamski. "Okay. How will you…"

Kamski pulls out two collection tubes, and Nines squints suspiciously. He seems _very_ ready to collect samples.

"Relax, Nines." Kamski chuckles breezily. "An eternity allows one to explore anything they desire. I find the study of supernatural creatures to be very fascinating, and I'm well-equipped to do so." 

That's… reasonable, he supposes. He finds a part of himself agreeing. He'd probably do the same.

They start with Connor, first. Kamski apologizes as he lengthens a nail to a sharp point, using it to slice through Connor's wrist. His brother seems to tense more in anticipation than pain—Nines doubts he can feel it that much, now. 

By the time the tube is full, the wound is already starting to heal. Kamski pulls a—cloth? out of smoke, pressing it to the wound. Connor takes over putting pressure on it, and then Kamski leans in to mutter something that Nines doesn't catch. 

He barely sees Connor's eyes widen when Kamski's suddenly in front of Nines, taking his right arm. "Pardon me," he says, as he slides up Nines's sleeve, pulling the tube out of the feeder and inserting it into the collection tube. Nines allows it, but he's not paying attention—he's still got his eyes on his brother. 

As soon as he feels the pinprick of the needle, Connor tenses, eyes bleeding to gold and pupils narrowing to slits. "Connor?" Nines calls carefully. 

His brother's eyes flick up to his face, but almost instantly fall back down to where Nines is sure his blood is dripping into the glass. Nines watches as he swallows, the only movement in him. It looks like he isn't breathing. 

"I'm done," Kamski says, letting go of his arm, fingers still holding on to the feeding tube. As soon as he steps back, Connor approaches in three jerky steps. He keeps his eyes down as he grasps Nines's arm. His hands are trembling minutely. 

Nines takes the tube from Kamski, eyes not leaving his brother's face, and lifts his arm up so he can offer it to Connor. 

His brother slowly, deliberately closes his mouth over it, eyes slipping shut. The careful grip on Nines's arm eases, and Connor sighs. When the feeding cycle ends and Nines pulls the tube away, Connor seems to chase it, just a bit—before Nines puts a hand on his shoulder, grabbing his attention. "Connor? Hey…"

His eyes flutter open. The still-golden gaze locks onto Nines's—the slits have widened a bit, he notices. 

Nines lifts his hand to pat his face. "You okay?" 

Connor blinks, and his eyes immediately turn back to normal. And then he stiffens, head snapping to Kamski. "Mr. Kamski," he says, reproachful. 

Their mentor has a slight smile teasing at his mouth. Pleased, only the tiniest bit apologetic. "I told you I'd stop you if you were unable to do so yourself. But no—you've demonstrated a restraint very few fledgelings have on the first day." He slips the tubes into the shadows of his robe. "Truly magnificent."

"Barely," Connor mutters, hissing out a breath. 

Nines narrows his eyes. "Was that truly necessary?" 

Kamski shrugs. "At some point, yes. Something like it. It's more efficient to multitask, isn't it? Weren't you saying something about that earlier?"

He _did._ He really can't argue with that. He'd like to think that this isn't what he meant, that this isn't the way he'd do it if he were in Kamski's place, though.

Connor brings him out of his stormy musings with a sigh and a pat on his arm. "I guess it's… fine. You'll tell us what you find out?" 

"I'll tell you if I find anything notable," Kamski agrees, clasping his hands in front of him. "Would you mind terribly if we cut our session short today?"

"That's fine," Connor says, and Nines nods stiffly.

"Then, farewell," their mentor bows, and disappears into smoke. 

* * *

When Connor checks his phone, they find that Josh has responded. 

**Josh**

> **_Today, 3:22 pm_ **
> 
> _Hello, Josh. We're okay,  
>  I… just finished turning  
> this morning. _
> 
> _Our mentor says I can't  
>  see you, or, well, humans,  
> for a while. But Nines and  
> I do want to meet the twins  
> you were talking about—  
> we might be able to in  
> about a week or two? _

**_Today, 3:52 pm (4 hours ago)_ **

_Oh thank god you're  
okay _

_was kinda worried I  
might've had the wrong  
number… _

_I thought turning took  
an hour or something?  
Uh not sure if that's  
rude to ask— _

_Anyways! the people I  
wanted you to meet are  
my friend Simon and his  
brother Daniel. _

_I can give you their  
location— one sec. _

_[View in Maps]_

_Feel free to let me know_   
_whenever you can go! I'll_   
_give them a heads up._

"Hmm," Nines sounds, from where he's leaning on Connor's side. They're back to sitting in their bed. 

"I'll tell him that we'll keep him updated," Connor says, as he types out a reply. And then he tosses his phone onto the bedside table, before coming back to his original position. 

A few minutes pass before Nines speaks. "How do you feel now?" 

Connor drags his hand from Nines's arm to his head, sticking fingers through his strands. Nines sighs blissfully. It is _remarkably_ convenient that Connor enjoys the repetitive stimulation as much as Nines likes being on the receiving end of it. It calms both of them down, and he suspects that Connor is trying to quell his own anxiety at the moment. 

"I'm still kinda," he makes a frustrated gesture, "that Mr. Kamski sprung that… test, or whatever. I just think… if it's just you and me, could I stop myself?"

"You can," Nines manages beyond the haze. "You won't hurt me."

Connor's fingers falter. Slowly, though, they return to their movements. 

"I guess, overall… It's not as jarring as I'd expected," he murmurs, eventually. "I think… " Connor's hand tightens in his hair, and his brother leans down to lay his head on top of Nines's. "It really helps that you're here."

Nines hums. "I'm here for you," he says, distantly. "Always."

His brother chuckles at his dazed tone, a "Thank you, Nines," filling their air as he holds Nines closer. 

Nines only gives another hum. 


	7. Seam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's not sure if he's ever wanted anything so badly.

Connor's teeth ache. 

Not painfully. It's more like… an antsiness. A restlessness. 

Every time he feeds from Nines, it somehow feels both better and worse. 

Such are the thoughts running through his mind while they—Nines, Kamski, and himself—are sitting on the side benches in the large room Kamski has designated as their learning area. He wishes he had a quarter to play with, but Kamski probably wouldn't appreciate it. 

"So, I have good news," Kamski says, smiling in that distant way he does. It's the first time they've seen him since he went off to 'test his theory' yesterday. 

"That usually prefaces 'and bad news,'" Nines responds dryly. 

Kamski gives a single amused huff. "Heh. Well, not yet. I still need more data for a conclusion on the things that, if true, might class as 'bad news.' No, today, Connor, I can tell you that you may very well be a true daywalker."

Connor blinks. He figures it's what it says on the tin, but: "A daywalker?"

"A vampire unaffected by sunlight," Nines answers, as he looks at Connor with something like curiosity, something like awe. 

"Indeed! There are a few strains with that inherent trait, but they tend to be weaker strains of vampirism. In your case, your natural affinity shields you—your body somehow does not reject certain forms of light as much as mine does." Kamski interlaces his fingers. "Though holy magic still seems like it would do considerable damage. Just not as much." 

"Nice," Connor says, with a tone lifting just enough to suggest a question. 

Nines hums. "It's not negatively affecting him at all? The combination of the vampirism and his magic?" 

"As far as I can tell, no," Kamski shrugs. "I could probably write a whole paper about it, the phenomenon is so  _ interesting…"  _

Nines narrows his eyes at their mentor. "Perhaps we could get to learning before you start considering us as research material?"

Kamski just laughs. "Well, if you put it so bluntly. But I  _ do _ need to study the both of you to understand the nuances of your states of being—it is simply a matter of whether I publish it or not."

Connor fidgets. "Maybe once everything's less… in flux?"

Their mentor's grin softens slightly. "Of course. I won't do anything that violates your agency." He pauses. "Within reason, with the two of you as my responsibility."

"Okay," Connor says. Nines crosses his arms and nods. 

"Now then," Kamski claps once, "Connor, I suppose you've been getting the urge to bite something?"

"Is that what this is?" Connor blurts. The  _ ache.  _

Kamski looks at him strangely. "... Hm. Perhaps it's less intense for you than those turned normally." He swirls a hand, black smoke forming around it, "in any case," something that looks like a pouch forms out of the smoke, dropping into his hand. Her turns it around, and it's clear on the other side—blood. "This is how most vampires get blood these days."

He hands it to Connor, who takes it carefully. "It comes with a straw," Kamski continues, "but younger vampires often prefer biting into it to alleviate some of the urge." 

Connor inspects the pouch. It's labeled with  _ Type O positive.  _ Huh. "Does blood type matter?"

"Not that much," Kamski responds. "Though it does taste a little different. O tends to have the most neutral flavor." He chuckles. "The subtleties are lost if you're drinking from a live donor, though. Their own unique flavors tend to overpower the type." 

Nines leans over, inspecting the pouch for himself. As he's doing so, Connor asks, "So should I just… bite into it?"

Kamski gestures for him to go ahead. So he lifts it up, brow furrowing, as he carefully closes his mouth over the top and punctures the foil packaging with his fangs. 

It's…

Hm. 

Kamski snorts. "You look so troubled, Connor. Don't like it? I suppose considering that you've been having the highest quality of blood for your entire unlife, it may have ruined you for preserved blood."

That's probably right. It's not… bad. He imagines it's the difference between having cold canned soup and… having fresh soup from a gourmet restaurant or something. He's fed, but it's… not fantastic. 

Connor unlatches himself, only having finished about half of the contents in the pouch. "It's okay," he says. 

"Did it help?" Nines asks from next to him. "For the… biting." 

Connor frowns. "Maybe?" The ache seems to have gone down a bit, at least. Until he looks at his brother, and—

He looks away immediately. He doesn't realize he's clenching the pouch tightly until Kamski's easing his hand open and taking it back. The other vampire is watching him. Assessing. 

"It seems it would be best if you continue to feed from your brother." Kamski folds the top of the pouch and lets it vanish into darkness. 

The thought is simultaneously relieving and terrifying. "Okay," Connor says. 

* * *

Chloe finds them, later, sitting together on one of the couches in one of the many empty rooms. "Hungry?" she asks Nines. 

Oh. Connor's eyes drop to the floor. "I suppose," Nines says, hesitation clear in his voice as he lays a hand on Connor's arm. 

He fidgets, twisting his hands together, as Chloe approaches in his peripheral vision to sit next to him. 

Connor meets her eyes. He's not sure what kind of face he's making. "I guess I can't eat your cooking anymore." 

A sad smile graces her face. "I wouldn't advise it. But…" She looks past him. At Nines. "You might be able to get something close." 

Connor blinks at her, confused. She tilts her head. "When you drink from a live donor, you can often taste things they've just eaten. From a combination of traces in the blood, and some mental bleed."

Connor blinks again. 

"You'd have to feed within a few minutes to capture most of the flavors—they fade pretty rapidly," she laughs lightly. 

"I… Mental bleed?" Connor asks.

Chloe tilts her head. "Oh, right." She waves a hand. "There's a degree of mental connection that can be temporarily formed between a vampire and whoever they drink from. It's stronger if it's a direct bite, so I'm not surprised if you haven't noticed anything." 

"Oh, okay," Connor replies faintly. 

They try it. They go to the kitchen, watch her work her metaphorical magic, and they both watch Nines eat. 

At least until he puts his fork down, and, very calmly, says, "Could you two,  _ perhaps, _ not watch me eat?" 

Connor helps Chloe clean the dishes. 

And then, when the tube is back in Connor's mouth, he tries not to cry, because it's so  _ good,  _ it's  _ Nines, _ but he can also taste Chloe's cooking, the memory of the taste and texture suffusing his mind. 

It leaves him both satisfied, and, and— 

His teeth ache. 

* * *

As promised, Kamski teaches them how to use their magic. 

"I'll start with Nines first. I have the feeling that he'll be a little easier to manage." He laughs. 

So Connor watches from the side as Kamski directs his brother. 

"Do you recall the feeling of your magic?" Nines nods, and he smiles. "Excellent. Focus on that, and try to shape it into something in your mind."

Nines hums, looking at his hands. His eyes slip closed, and then open—only with his pupils glowing with a faint light. 

Connor sees the spreading cold before he feels it—Nines's breath coming out in visible puffs as the temperature starts to drop. 

Their mentor looks incredibly pleased. "Try forming it into something solid." 

Nines spreads his hands forward, and in the blink of an eye, Kamski's jumped back, and everything in a radius around Nines is coated by a layer of ice. 

_ "Very _ excellent," Kamski says. "Can you reverse it?" 

Nines frowns, brow furrowing in concentration. The ice slowly recedes—or maybe it changes its form? A thin fog emerges at Nines's feet, curling gently. There's still some ice around when he wobbles, and Kamski's there in an instant, stabilizing him by the shoulder. "That's alright, Nines. Your control is beyond expectations, but you should try to let go of some of your stranglehold on it. It'll tire you much, much more quickly." He snorts. "I would say I can't believe you have the opposite problem of most advents, but perhaps it is unsurprising. Given your personality and how your awakening was triggered as an echo, and not by your own stress. I suppose we'll have to work harder to ease your door further open."

A nod from Nines is all Kamski gets. His arms fall, and a hum of energy Connor didn't even notice until now disappears as Nines's pupils fade to black. Kamski's shadows wrap around himself and Nines, and the next thing Connor knows, they're next to him, Kamski seating Nines next to Connor. 

Connor takes Nines's hand, and can't help an amused snort. "You're almost as cold as me, now."

"So I am," Nines replies softly. 

Connor runs a thumb across Nines's knuckles. "You okay?"

A nod, as Nines blinks slowly, sluggishly. "Kinda sleepy," he mumbles. 

Kamski pats him on the shoulder. "A good night's sleep should be sufficient to get you back in working order. Connor?"

At hearing his name, Connor straightens. Kamski gestures to the center of the room. "Shall we?"

"Sure," he says, letting his hand slip out of Nines's. 

Once they're situated, Kamski steps to his side. "Do you remember how it felt yesterday? When you shattered the orb." 

Connor hums. "I felt  _ something _ . I don't know if I know how to replicate it, though." 

"Try."

He purses his lips, trying to bring the memory of the molten sensation to the forefront of his mind. It was just—so fast. He barely had any time to process it before it was over. 

A frustrated sound escapes him. "I don't…" That feeling, that  _ feeling—  _

Suddenly, the world drops away. It's nighttime, he's alone, except for the body pressing him down, fangs piercing his neck— 

_ Molten lava pours through every nerve in his body—  _

_ Stop it stop please he's killing me—  _

_ It's so cold—hot, burning, cold again, burning and freezing it hurts—  _

_ Get away get away GET AWAY— _

_ "—Connor!  _ Wherever you are, you're not there, okay? You're not there."

Nines? It hurts so much. 

"It's okay, it's okay. That was in the past. Listen to my voice."

I'm so cold.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm going to hug you, okay?"

I'm scared… 

"You're okay. I'm here, Connor. I'm here."

Reality filters back in fragments. The warmth seeping into him. The smell of snow and rain and stress. Fingers curling through the hairs at the back of his neck. The chill of the floor against his knees. 

His face is pressed into Nines's neck. He wants—he wants to— 

He pulls away, instead. Nines reluctantly allows it, and then he meets Connor's eyes with a worried, searching gaze. After another moment, he slides his hands to Connor's, easing them open. "You don't have to go back there to use your magic," Nines murmurs. 

And then there's something sliding into his senses—familiar, somehow, even though he's never felt such a thing. It percolates somewhere deep within him, and then—there's another feeling being coaxed out, a feeling like the sun on his face, like hot chocolate on a cold day, like being hugged by his brother. Barely like the molten burning from before. His hands emit a faint yellow glow, emanating a slight warmth as motes of light form and drift up from his hands. Nines slowly lets go, and it doesn't stop. Connor can feel it now. His magic. The hum in his soul.

"See?" Nines says, lifting one hand to brush away the tears Connor didn't realize were on his face. "You're doing great, Connor." 

And then he wraps his arms back around Connor, sinking heavily, bonelessly, pressing his head to Connor's shoulder. "N-Nines?" 

"'m okay," he says. "Just… a sec."

"I would expect as much," Connor jerks his head to the left, where Kamski is watching a gash on his arm heal, "given that he commanded  _ your _ magic after already being tired from his own."

Connor flinches at the sight of the injury. "Did—did I—was that—?"

"Yes, Connor, it was you." Kamski runs a finger, flickering with black smoke, across the wound. Like some kind of magic trick, the blood and the injury both vanish as his fingers cross over it. "My apologies. I did not intend to trigger the memory from your incident." 

"Sorry," Connor says, eyes dropping to the floor. "I just…"

A hand on his other shoulder, brief. "It's not your fault." He looks up to see Kamski… repairing the tears in his clothes? "Trauma is a complicated thing. But I'm glad your brother seems to alleviate the stress of it. If anything I do becomes too much for you, then do tell me. I like to  _ push _ limits. Not break people in trying to do so."

"Right," Connor murmurs. 

"I think that's enough for now," Kamski says, subdued, almost. "The two of you should get some rest. Would you like me to send you back to your room?"

Connor nods, and he and Nines fall into shadow.

* * *

They manage to throw on some clothes more suitable for sleeping in before Nines collapses in a heap on the bed. Despite his clear exhaustion, Nines reaches his arms out, beckoning Connor closer. 

Connor slides into bed, drawing himself into Nines's arms. The appendages curl around him, enveloping him in the warmth of the contact and that distinctive, crisp scent. Tucking his head under Nines's chin.

"You okay?" Nines asks, voice quiet. 

Connor clenches his fingers on the back of Nines's shirt. 

"It's fine if you're scared, you know. It's fine if you lean on me."

"But that's  _ all _ I've been doing," Connor bites out. "All I've done is make things harder for you. It's my fault everything had to change,  _ I  _ was the one who turned, and awakened, and you just got dragged into it just because we're  _ twins, _ and you've done  _ so _ much for me, and even  _ now  _ all I want—" he snaps his mouth shut with an audible clack.

Nines pulls away, looking at Connor, alertness rapidly replacing to sleepiness from earlier. "All you want…?"

Connor swallows harshly. 

"It's okay. You can tell me, if you like."

He hisses out a breath, looking away. "I don't think I've ever wanted anything so badly," he whispers. He looks back up to see Nines watching him patiently. "I—…" he slides a hand up from Nines's arm, over his shoulder, to his neck. Exposed only like this, when he's in his sleepwear. He presses lightly, feeling the life pulsing within. 

Nines's eyes widen in understanding. 

"I'm sorry." He quickly pulls his hand back, but Nines snatches it, a considering look on his face. "... Nines?"

His brother looks at his hand, then his face. "I don't…" he says slowly, "mind." 

What? 

"I trust you," he says, meeting Connor's eyes with such intensity that he doesn't know how to respond. That he forgets to breathe, and it's a good thing he doesn't need to. 

He just stares at his brother, frozen. He doesn't react when Nines pulls him close, pressing Connor's face to his neck. 

It's only when he's hit by another wash of that  _ ache _ at being so  _ close _ that he weakly tries to pull himself away. "Nines, we shouldn't."

"Says who?" his brother mutters, voice low, close to his ear. "Mr. Kamski already said you won't hurt me." 

"Nines, I've been wanting to bite you for  _ days. _ Do you have any idea—?" 

"Then do it already." 

Connor makes a frustrated sound. The last of his resistance crumbles as he wraps his arms around his brother, as he breathes deeply at the exposed skin. He opens his mouth, letting his breath spill out, and feels Nines tense slightly. 

Just as he thought, he's scared, scared of  _ him— _ but Nines just mutters, "Tickles," and Connor laughs breathily.

And then every sense becomes sharper, he can see the yellow glow of his eyes spilling over his surroundings, he can feel his fangs lengthening in anticipation of finally,  _ finally _ sinking in— 

He's aware, somewhere in the periphery, of Nines letting out a shaky breath, hands clenching at Connor's back. But as the blood blossoms from the wound, filling his mouth, his mind is flooded with pure  _ sensation. _ He feels like he's standing at the peak of a mountain, frosty air sharp against his skin, in his lungs. He feels like he's in a storm, turning his head to the sky, the precipitation sinking into every nook and cranny of his mind. He feels like he's sinking deep underwater, everything distant, muted, peaceful, quiet, dark. 

And then, he—he feels the echo of unadulterated  _ love, _ of  _ trust. _ The  _ worry, _ sliding somewhere deep to wrap around his own suffocating fear, fear of dying, fear of death, fear of being useless,  _ useless— _

He feels the reassurance. Swaddling him like a cotton blanket. The unshakeable belief that he's  _ already enough.  _ He knows, then, with absolute certainty—he knows Nines would die for him. But Connor wouldn't let him. He'd give his un-life first. 

At that thought, another surge of protectiveness knocks him off his metaphorical feet. Connor laughs, as much as he can while keeping Nines's blood from spilling everywhere from the bite. 

_ Let's agree to just keep each other safe, yeah? _

_ Fine.  _

He's not terribly surprised when he hears Nines's voice in his head. But the realization that their  _ minds  _ are truly connected, like this—maybe this is what it's like to feel complete.

One soul, split into two, wasn't it?

Maybe it's as close as they can get to be one, again. He feels like he could stay like this forever, coasting on the pure feeling of  _ connection, _ but he knows Nines doesn't have a limitless supply of blood. 

So he forces himself to slide his fangs out—instinct guiding him to lick away the excess until it stops bleeding. Part of his mind hesitates, it's  _ weird _ —but he knows it's necessary to clean the wound. Nines, to his credit, only languidly rolls his head to the side to give him better access. 

Eventually, his vampire brain is satisfied, and he leans away. He can still feel that lingering connection, like an elastic string stretching between them. 

Nines blinks at him, but he looks like he can barely keep his eyes open. Connor can feel the tiredness echoing in his own mind. But he smiles, even as his next words are slurred by exhaustion. "See…? I knew… you could stop yourself." 

"You trust me way too much," Connor gripes, even though they both know that he's the same. "That was so much more intense than I expected."

"Indeed," Nines laughs softly, as he draws Connor close again. 

Connor can hear the pulse in his brother's chest. Steady. Unperturbed. 

_ Better?  _ A faint thought slips into his own mind.

_ Much, _ he thinks in response, before they're both pulled into dreamless oblivion.


	8. Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The two of you may be more intricately intertwined than I expected."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: ~3060

Nines wakes up slowly, becoming aware of different little things piece by piece. 

A weight wrapped around him, only slightly chill. His own face pressed into a crown of hair. A profound sense of sleepy comfort stretched like a band within his mind. 

Connor shifts just as Nines is starting to shake off his sleep, a hand sliding up to brush his neck. 

_It's healed already,_ comes a voice in his head. 

His sleep-addled brain takes a moment to process that. And then he remembers— 

The bite, the momentary spike of pain.

And then clutching at his brother as pleasure surged through him, not like anything he's ever felt, making his mind go fuzzy, making his limbs grow limp.

It left him open, vulnerable. In mind and body. He can see why some might fear it. But he only opened himself further, surrendering himself entirely. And that open space in his mind was filled—by the sheer presence of _Connor,_ suddenly _there,_ suddenly intertwining with his own mind. Something warm, something gentle, almost. He could feel everything, the hurt, the fear. He wanted to soothe it, to make it go away, and he found—he could. He could reach forward, and Connor responded, their emotions melting together in a blend of _being_ with no start and no end. Connor's thoughts sung with that feeling of completion, the desire to stay like that forever. Thoughts echoed in Nines's own. 

The connection lingered as they had separated, as Connor pried himself from Nines's neck, as Connor _licked him clean._ That was certainly… something. But it seems to have done the job to heal the bite. 

Connor's hand lifts away, and Nines reaches up to feel at it himself. Perfectly smooth, as much as human skin can be. 

He opens his eyes, finally, to see Connor looking at him. He blinks, reaching forward to brush back that tuft of hair they both have. _We're still connected?_

_Seems like it. Is that weird?_

_I'm not sure…_

"I see the two of you are awake." 

Both of them jump, jerking back and turning to the voice. And there is Kamski, sitting on a chair of shadows, a tablet floating in front of him. "So you finally bit him, hm?"

"Uh," Connor says.

"You expected this, didn't you." Nines isn't asking. 

Kamski smirks. "I did. I was curious to see how long it would take, really. It's only the third day since you turned fully, which is certainly interesting. By the way," he adds, "You're already approved from direct feeding from Nines—I was quite certain of the inevitability, so I acquired the approval rather quickly."

The frustration with their mentor echoes in their minds. Connor waves a hand jerkily. "Couldn't you have just _told_ us it was fine? I was having a crisis about biting him!" 

Kamski raises an eyebrow. "I _could_ have."

Connor and Nines exchange a look and agree that he's a bastard. 

"How long have you been there, anyway?" Nines mutters. 

"Overnight," Kamski says. "I've been monitoring your condition since shortly after the two of you fell asleep."

"Mr. Kamski," Connor says, reproachfully. 

The other vampire only shrugs. "I wasn't sure how it would affect the two of you. And, Nines, you realize you forgot to take the potion, yes?" 

"... Ah." Connor's reproach is directed towards _him,_ now. But there's also a guilt underneath, and Nines is quick to take his brother's hand and reassure him.

Kamski smiles wryly. "Well. Connor's venom was sufficient to stimulate your system enough to get your blood back to a reasonable level. It's not as effective as the potion, but it's enough if you're not being fed from _too_ much."

"I see." He's pretty sure one of the reagents for Sanguine Draught is vampire venom, come to think of it. 

Kamski stands, the chair of shadows vanishing. "Did you achieve a mental connection during feeding?"

It felt a little deeper than a mere mental connection, really, at that time. But currently— 

"We still have it," Connor says in an almost questioning tone, tilting his head. 

Their mentor stills, and then turns to look at them. "… Hm." He places a finger on his chin. Considering. "To what extent? Do you hear each other's thoughts? Feel each other's emotions?" 

"Both?" Connor replies. 

"Consciously or passively?"

Connor squints at that, and Nines answers for them. "Consciously, I believe. Mostly. It was only during the actual feeding that we felt… everything."

Their mentor narrows his eyes. "How far did you go? Did you lose your sense of self?"

"No, we—" Nines glances at Connor. "We definitely felt like ourselves. It was more… hmm." He's not sure how to describe it. 

"We were just blending in thoughts and feelings, I guess? We felt… close. Not two, but not one, maybe…"

"Interesting," Kamski mutters. At this point, Nines is resigned for the two of them to be an endless source of fascination for him. "Well." He drops his arm. "You should probably learn to reign it in if you ever need to feed in a less private area—that's something we can work on. For the record, the wrist is often less intense on both ends."

Nines lifts his right wrist, where the feeder's still strapped to it. 

"You can take that off now, by the way. Connor can drink from you directly, ha." 

"Right," Nines mutters as he peels away the velcro and places the device to the side. There's a bruise there, from the repeated punctures. He brushes a finger against it—before Connor grabs his wrist and gives it a lick. 

Nines blinks. "Um."

"I have healing spit?" 

Nines looks to the ceiling, wondering if a higher power will deliver him. 

A laugh sounds from Kamski. "He's not wrong. It'll heal within a few hours, now." 

He sighs. "Great." 

"Right then," Kamski steps back, "Meet me in the atrium in an hour or so."

"Okay," they say at the same time, and Kamski gives them a look before vanishing again. 

"Think he'll ever use the door?" Connor asks.

"Probably not."

* * *

"Elijah told me you fed from Nines directly last night." Chloe tilts her head at them as she plucks a few plants in her garden to put in a basket. 

"Yeah," Connor nods. One of his hands is on Nines's arm. 

She smiles at them—teasing. "Did you enjoy it? Both of you."

Nines raises an eyebrow. 

_Is that rude to ask? It seems like it'd be a weird thing to ask._ Connor's thoughts slip in between his own. 

"Is that something you should ask?" Nines voices for them. 

She stands up, patting her dress—a more casual one than the blue one she'd worn when they first met. "It's generally acceptable for kin to ask such things. You _are_ my vampiric cousin." She laughs like tinkling wind chimes. 

"Oh, right." Connor fiddles with the edge of his sleeve, of a light beige shirt. "Well. It was… a lot." 

"It was pleasurable, if that's what you're asking," Nines says bluntly, crossing his hands behind him. "But the mental aspect might have been more intense." 

Chloe laughs once. "Ha, yes, it can be a lot the first time. I'm glad it turned out well for you two, though. It's not always easy to hold back from your first direct feeding."

"Connor would never hurt me." The conviction in Nines's voice is clear.

She turns to look at them. "You really trust each other."

"Yes," they say in unison. 

Chloe raises an eyebrow at that. "Mental bleed?"

Nines nods. 

She starts walking out, and they trail after her. "It goes deeper the more the donor trusts the one biting. I'm not surprised."

_You didn't resist me at all._

_Of course not._

When they get to the kitchen, Connor asks if they can help her this time. "Of course," she agrees, and they assist in preparing Nines's breakfast. 

The two vampires look like they're going to watch him eat again, but a glare quickly resolves that concern.

"If you bite him now, you'll probably be able to almost fully experience the memory," Chloe mentions once he's finished. 

Connor looks at him, uncertainty coloring his expression. Nines offers his right arm, and Connor wraps his fingers around it, lifting it to his face. 

Only another moment of uncertainty, before he closes his eyes, his fangs lengthen, and the points pierce Nines's skin. He can't help the reflexive twitch in his arm at the sharp feeling, but immediately exhales and lets his eyes fall closed as the venom is injected into his system again. Just as Kamski had said—this wasn't nearly as intense as last night. But it's still dizzying, coupled with that feeling of Connor brushing with his own mind. 

Connor removes himself more quickly this time. The strange feeling of his fangs sliding out, made painless by the venom, is immediately followed by the cool moisture of him licking the bite clean. He straightens and lets Nines's arm go, allowing him to inspect the wound. 

Fully closed already, but still visible. It doesn't hurt at all. He pulls his sleeve over it. 

"How was it?" Chloe asks. 

"Just as amazing as I remember." Connor smiles, eyes bright, and it looks real. Though… 

_You still have my blood on your teeth. You should wash it down._

"Ah." 

* * *

When they enter the atrium, Kamski is looking out the windows, hands crossed behind his back. It's an overcast day—Nines's preferred weather, really. The muted white glow of the sky suffuses throughout the room.

He turns to look at them, and then gestures for them to sit at the benches lining the windows. 

Once they're seated, he forms another shadow-chair to sit in front of them, holding out his hands to both of them. "Will you two allow me to probe your minds? I wish to observe the nature of the connection you have for myself."

_Ugh…_

_I'm sure it'll be fine, Nines,_ and he reluctantly agrees.

They both reach forward and grab his proffered hands. The feeling that follows is… not pleasant. He feels something skirting at the edges of his mind, peering in. Probing, slightly, but not deeply. He gets nothing from the presence itself—Kamski's own mind is opaque to him throughout the process.

The feeling recedes, and Kamski leans back. "The two of you may be more intricately intertwined than I expected," he murmurs. "It seems as though the bite threaded with other avenues of connection, as well. I expect you'll be able to hear each other's thoughts for days without feeding. Though," he chuckles, "I see you've bitten your brother again already, Connor." Connor fidgets at that. "I don't think you'll have to worry about the connection fading much before it's renewed again." 

Nines raises an eyebrow. "So we'll likely have the connection indefinitely?" 

Kamski's laugh is dry. "The way you're going now—yes. Until the day you die." 

At that, Nines stiffens. He parts his mouth open, swallows, looks down. "I…" Connor's hand squeezes his elbow. 

"Nines…"

He looks back at Kamski. "I don't want to drift from Connor," he whispers. "I—I was hoping that—"

"He could turn you?" Kamski's eyes are assessing. 

Connor inhales sharply, fingers digging into his arm. _"Nines."_

"I was…" Nines looks down again. "I was hoping for that to be the case."

"I was expecting that as well. Planned for it, really." Nines's head shoots up, and he's sure the surprise is on his face. "Don't be so surprised." Kamski tilts his head in a birdlike motion. "It's a cruel fate to be divided from the other half of your soul. But you cannot."

Nines takes a moment to process that. And then, "What?" Quiet. 

"The tests I conducted on your blood. The mental connection you two share. Your control over your brother's magic. Many things, all leading to the same conclusion."

Connor puts his other hand on Nines's arm as well, a reassuring gesture. "And that is?"

"You, Connor, need Nines alive to live—to exist, I suppose, the way you are now." Kamski answers them levelly. "I haven't isolated the exact mechanics of it. Part of it is physical—Nines's blood is a powerful stabilizer in your body. Part of it is magical—the flow of magic between the two of you is remarkably fluid. I have a sense that you exchange certain strains of your mana to balance each other. Nines, if you are turned, all that could be lost. I can't say what the result would be. If Connor's lucky, he might simply lose his magic. But the more likely possibilities include him becoming terribly ill from magic poisoning, and dying a painful death." 

That's… but that's… 

"What if…" Nines is faintly aware of his own voice coming from his throat, "I die?"

Kamski's face is almost _sympathetic,_ under that cool mask. "The same, I expect. If the rending of your soul from his doesn't kill him first."

Nines stands. He's shaking, he thinks. "So you're saying," he speaks lowly, "I have to slowly drift apart from him, only for him to—to die as soon as I reach the end of my lifespan?"

"If it's any consolation, you probably wouldn't survive his soul being rended from yours, either." He smiles. It's not a happy expression. "In a way, he's as mortal as before, in terms of longevity. He just won't age, while you will." 

He doesn't realize how hard he's digging his nails into his palms until Connor's prying them open, pulling at him gently to sit back down. "C'mon, Nines, it's okay. You still have a long life ahead of you. Maybe this is for the better." 

Nines shakes his head. "I don't—I don't want to drift away from you. I don't want you to _die_ because of _me."_

Connor pulls Nines's head to his chest, above his unbeating heart. "It'll be okay," he says, as he tries to flood reassurance into his mind. But it's not enough. The realization worms its way into him. Nines will slowly inch closer to death, and as soon as he tips over, Connor will be dragged down with him. 

He doesn't know what to do. 

He doesn't want to feel this way. Helpless to his—their—fate. 

But there's—no use running in circles. Wallowing in his emotions won't get him anywhere. He has to focus on what he can do. Productivity. Efficiency. 

So he breathes deeply, slowly, clutching at Connor's shirt—and shoves the feelings down as far as they can go. 

Connor stiffens. "Nines—"

He sits up, meeting Kamski's eyes. "I suppose there's no use dwelling on it," he says robotically. "What was your plan for today?"

Kamski tilts his head at him, a considering look on his face, while Connor's alarm bleeds into Nines's mind.

_Nines, wait, it's okay to be upset—_

_I'm not upset. Anymore._

_You don't have to do this. Please._

_I'm fine._

"Nines," Connor hisses. 

"You don't have to be concerned," Nines insists calmly. "Mr. Kamski?"

Their mentor is frowning slightly. "You don't wish for more time to process this?"

"That is unnecessary." 

"Fuck," Connor's eyes dart between him and Kamski, "he—he gets like this when—"

"I'm fine," Nines insists again, allowing irritation to color his voice. "Are you going to teach us today or not?" 

Kamski hums. "... If you wish it."

"I do," Nines answers, ignoring Connor's reservations. 

He sighs. "Very well, then."

Kamski had wanted to focus on control, actually—improving Connor's and helping Nines loosen his. 

This time, though, when Nines tries to materialize something, an ice formation erupts around him, glacial spikes bursting from the ground and embedding into the ceiling. If the room wasn't charmed, he's sure it would've torn right through. "Hmm." He tries to shift his arms, and realizes. "... I can't move."

Kamski forms in front of him, from the smoke he'd turned into to dodge. Observing the way the solid ice coats his limbs. "Interesting," he notes, and Nines sighs. Of course it is. "It almost seems your stranglehold of control has transferred entirely to your emotions." 

"Perhaps," Nines answers. 

_See? You're really not okay._

Nines ignores him. 

"Connor?" Kamski calls him over. His brother looks at their mentor questioningly before approaching. "This may actually be a good learning opportunity for you. Your magic will instinctively avoid harming your brother." He gestures to Nines. "Try melting him out."

Connor squeaks. "I don't know if I can do that."

"You'll do fine," Nines reassures. 

Connor sighs. "Even like this, you're—" He gives a frustrated gesture with his hands. 

"The risk is low. Go on, Connor."

His brother nods, eyes low, stepping forward and wrapping his hands around Nines's. His brow furrows as he tries to call his magic—Nines gives him the slightest nudge in the right direction. He blinks, then, and his pupils narrow and glow. His hands begin to warm, a layer of buttery light forming across them. 

Connor bites his lip in concentration, hands tightening, temperature rising, heat slowly spreading across the ice entrapping him.

Nines closes his eyes, letting the sensation wash over him. He doesn't experience cold the same way when he uses his magic—it's not unpleasant to be below freezing like that—but the warmth of his brother's magic is… comforting. 

He doesn't realize he's free until the ice is cracking, falling away, and Connor's pulling him into a hug. "Nines, please. It's okay to feel."

He sighs. Lets his hands rest on Connor's back. "Not now," he replies. 

Things go a little more smoothly after that. He's getting a better sense of how to vary the control of his magic, and by the end, Connor was able to manifest a stable golden flame in his hands for a few minutes. It was… aesthetically pleasing.

By the time Kamski lets them go, he feels sleep pulling at his eyes, and manages to stumble through dinner and hygiene before crawling into bed, lying down on his stomach.

The bed sinks under Connor's weight as he joins him. Within moments, fingers are running through his hair, and he can _feel_ the threads of tension pulled away. But he still doesn't let go.

"How are you doing, Nines?"

"Just fine," he mumbles into the pillow. 

His brother sighs. "I'll be here to catch you when it all comes crashing down. Just don't let it get too bad, please. I'm right here with you."

"I know," he says, and lets himself drift away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nines: emotions.exe has encountered a fatal error
> 
> And yes I 3D modeled their training room hah  
> You can see it on dA [here](https://sta.sh/01e3k0ujhm0g)!


	9. Intersection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Nines meet Daniel and Simon. Along with a few others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: ~3800

Nines stays like _that_ for days. Carefully blank, distant and muted. He's efficient in everything he does, of course. He gets the basics down so quickly that even Kamski comments on it. 

But Connor's worried. He knows, he _knows_ that Nines only gets like this when he's keeping away feelings that are too much for him to process. 

Even when he goes pliant and boneless in Connor's arms, when he lets Connor bite into the soft flesh of his neck—even when their minds are blending, his mental landscape is smooth and unperturbed. 

Except for the roiling mass sunken deep below that veneer of calm. 

Connor could prod at it, break through the walls Nines has built, especially when he has his fangs in him. It would be so _easy_ to exert his own will—but he can't. Won't. Nines has to let the walls down himself. When he feels like he can handle it. To force him would be a violation of the trust between them. 

At least his worry for his brother keeps his mind from turning on himself. 

The week passes quickly. Kamski starts to focus on Connor's vampirism more once their magic is under control. Nines watches quietly from the side, sitting with perfect posture, unmoving. 

Connor learns how to activate his vampiric shifts on command—lengthening his fangs, changing his eyes, sharpening his nails. 

Kamski teleports in one day with a vial of fresh blood—"I got it just now from a very generous donor," he laughs—and pops it open in front of Connor's face. 

He feels the beginnings of the shifts—but manages to keep everything except his eyes under control, and it only takes an extra moment for him to return that to normal, too. The smell of the blood is strong and pleasant, but he finds that he isn't particularly… _drawn_ to it.

"Well done, Connor. You know, I think I could actually get you approval to interact with humans, soon. You've demonstrated very excellent control, though I suppose—you seem to only have fangs for your brother." He laughs again. 

Another day, and he leans in to speak quietly to Connor, low enough that Nines can't hear. Not that it matters, since the knowledge will probably migrate over during their next feeding. "How long does he usually stay like that?" he asks. 

Connor blinks, and realizes he's asking about Nines's emotional shutdown. "Oh. I mean, it varies. A few days, sometimes. Longest it's been was two weeks or so." Connor fidgets. "It's just however long it takes for him to feel like he can handle it, I think. It's usually… pretty bad, after."

Kamski hums, frowning. "It is… concerning. I am not well-equipped to handle emotional affairs, unfortunately. In this matter, I am uncertain."

"Yeah, emotions are weird," Connor agrees. "I think… he just needs time."

A sigh. "Very well."

The conversation does, in fact, migrate over to Nines during their next feeding. The surprise rings distantly within his brother's mind, and they both quietly amend their opinion of him to 'less of a bastard.'

"So," Kamski addresses them, eight days after Connor's turning was complete, "I have acquired approval for you," he nods at Connor, "to interact with humans, so long as your brother or someone else who can act as a safeguard is with you. If you wish to meet with that human in addition to the vampires, you may." He levels a look at Nines, who only meets his eyes with a blank-faced stare. "Of course, whether you'd like to meet them sooner or later is up to you."

"I would like to meet them soon," Nines says. 

So Connor messages Josh again. 

**Josh**

> **_Today, 9:52 am_ **
> 
> _I can meet with you, too,_ _  
> _ _actually. Turns out I have_ _  
> _ _great self-control. Nines_ _  
> _ _wants to meet as soon as_ _  
> _ _we can, when would be good?_

And, not too long later:

**_Today, 10:19 am_ **

_Connor, hey! That's_ _  
_ _great to hear!_

 _I'm actually at my_ _  
_ _friend's dad's place_ _  
_ _right now_

 _A group of my friends_ _  
_ _(including Simon) were free_ _  
_ _for the weekend, so_ _  
_ _we wanted to hang out—_ _  
_ _Simon was going to just_ _  
_ _leave for the time you'd_ _  
_ _meet with him_

 _Actually, do you want to_ _  
_ _meet everyone else?_ _  
_ _One of my friends is a_ _  
_ _holy sorcerer but he's_ _  
_ _really chill!! We're great_ _  
_ _friends with Simon and_ _  
_ _he's a vampire too, after all_

 _I can ask Daniel to come_ _  
_ _over and you can talk!_

Both Nines and Kamski are looking over his shoulder. Kamski waves a hand. "That's fine. Go ahead, if you wish." 

He feels the agreement from Nines, so: 

> **_Now_ **
> 
> _That'd be great, if that's_ _  
> _ _okay. Where and when?_

_Daniel can get here_ _  
_ _pretty quickly, honestly_ _  
_ _whenever's fine_

 _Uhh do you want to_ _  
_ _come at night?_

> _I'm immune to sunlight._ _  
> _ _Even if I wasn't, vampire_ _  
> _ _sunblock exists._

_…………_ _  
_ _Huh. Right._

 _How's 4pm today?_ _  
_ _Here's the place_

_[Open in Maps]_

Connor taps the link, and it takes him to his Maps app. It's still in Detroit—somewhere pretty secluded. 

"Ah," Kamski says softly. "Interesting."

Connor makes a questioning sound. 

"I'm familiar with the location. I can teleport you there easily."

"How will we get back?" Nines asks. 

"You can call me, of course," Kamski says, as he eases Connor's phone out of his grip to tap at the screen. He hands it back, and Connor sees the contact information of one _Elijah Kamski_ on his phone.

"Don't look so surprised, Connor," Kamski laughs. "What do you take me for? Of course I have a phone."

So at 4 PM that day, Kamski places a hand on both of their shoulders. "Say hello to Carl for me," he says, and then they're wrapped in shadows, falling in nothingness, and— 

They're standing outside a house. Or maybe _mansion_ is a better word for it. Old fashioned, surrounded by trees, neatly trimmed shrubbery. The birds are chirping, the sun is warm on his face, and he realizes—this is the first time he's been outside since he got to Kamski's house. 

The air is vibrant with life, full of the earthy scents of their surroundings. Nines comes up next to him, one hand lifted to shield his face from the sun. Connor is very amused that he, the vampire of the two of them, is the one enjoying the sunlight.

His brother gestures to the house. _Shall we?_

They walk up to the entrance, ringing the doorbell. The one to answer it is _not_ Josh, but a dark-skinned individual with striking heterochromatic eyes. He smells of light, but… different. Some part of Connor buzzes with a sense of _danger._ This must be the holy sorcerer.

"Hello," he says, a welcoming smile on his face. "You must be Connor and—Nines, right? I'm Markus. Josh has been worried about you two." 

"Hello," Connor echoes, even as his brows furrow. Josh barely knows him, why—?

Markus laughs brightly. "You look so surprised! Josh is really nice, though. He gets attached to things easily. It's funny sometimes." 

He steps aside, gesturing for them to enter, as another voice chimes in. "I resent that." 

A familiar face comes into view from another room, accompanied by another new scent. It registers as pleasant, but it's not nearly as nice as Nines. "Josh," Connor greets. "Hello." 

"Hey, Connor," he looks genuinely _relieved_ to see them, and Connor feels strangely unbalanced by it. "It's really good to see you're alright. How've you been?"

"Adjusting," Connor answers. "I'm doing pretty okay, all considered." 

Josh smiles. "That's—really good to hear. How about you, Nines? I'm Josh, by the way, if you haven't figured it out." He waves. "It's nice to finally meet you in person." 

A slow blink passes over Nines's eyes. "I am alright. Adjusting as well."

Connor smiles sadly, drawing a hand up to Nines's shoulder. "It hasn't been easy for him. Either of us, I guess, but he's, um." Connor nudges at their connection, asks if it's okay to say—and gets a _go ahead_ for it. "He's kind of in emotional shutdown right now." 

"It is more efficient to not deal with my emotions," Nines says. "Better to feel nothing than pain."

"I'm not really sure that's healthy." Josh's smile is strained. 

Connor pats his brother's shoulder. "Probably not." 

They make their way into a large room, full of… a lot. Sofas, collections of books, a TV. He has to make a double take at the _giraffe._

There are three others seated on the two sofas surrounding a coffee table, talking about something that Connor doesn't parse before it stops, the three turning to see them. 

The twins are identical, Connor notices. Not like him and Nines. They have the exact same facial structure, and their hair is styled only _slightly_ differently. He thinks one of them might look a little older, but he's not sure. 

The other person has long hair tied in a braid on one side. She's sitting on the back of the couch, socked feet on the actual seat, as she turns around to look at them. 

Not that he's one to talk, but something feels a little strange about her. Her scent is… odd. 

"Hey, guys," Josh greets. "This is Connor," he gestures to Connor, "and this is Nines." He gestures to his brother. 

"Hey," says the one with the braid. "Name's North."

The other twins wave. "I'm Simon," says the one that Connor thought looked a little younger. 

"Daniel," the other says.

"Hello," Nines answers, before tilting his head at North. "You seem different, North. You feel… _other,_ perhaps."

"Heh, you're not wrong!" North laughs, "Surprised you caught on so quickly, though."

Nines hums. They stand there for an awkward moment, before North challenges, "What, not going to ask what I am?"

"I…" Nines blinks, "figured that you would tell us if you desired."

"You talk really stiffly," she notes. "I'll give you a hint, since you're interesting." She lifts a hand, wiggling her fingers, and a swirl of sparkling dust glimmers into existence. 

Nines tilts his head, reaching forward—

North pulls her hand away, and the dust fades. "You probably don't want to breathe any of this in if you want a clear mind."

"Fae," Nines breathes, eyes widening slightly. It's the most positive expression he's seen on Nines in days. 

"Got it in one," North smirks. "Don't worry, I won't kidnap you into the land of the Fair Folk."

"That is… good to hear," Nines replies blandly.

"Anyways," Markus claps his hands together, "Do you two want to just talk with Daniel and Simon a bit? We can occupy ourselves with other things."

"Sure," Connor says, and the others shortly file out of the room. 

Connor and Nines find themselves sitting across from the other vampire twins. He fidgets. "So," he starts, but has no idea how to continue.

Nines mercifully steps in. "Did one of you turn before the other?" 

Simon blinks, and exchanges a look with Daniel before looking back. "That's right. I turned first, and turned Daniel a year later. That's not uncommon with close twins—with close family and friends, really. Are you going to…"

"I can't." 

Daniel's brow furrows at Nines's statement. "Can't?"

"It's because of the way our magic is," Connor twists his fingers together. "If he turns, I might get poisoned by my own light magic." 

"We are split-soul twins," Nines continues. "Our existences are intricately linked. In addition, he will likely die when I die, and I will likely die if he dies."

"Oh, god," Simon lifts a hand, but looks like he's not sure what to do with it. "That sounds—are you _okay_ with that?"

"There is nothing I can do about it," Nines states.

Connor wraps his arms around Nines. "He's not okay with it. It's why he's… like this, right now." 

"I am functional at the moment. Emotions would impede that."

Both Daniel and Simon look a little horrified. Daniel swallows. "I… we're not split-soul, I think. But even then, I didn't want to… grow old and die when Simon wouldn't. I was willing to give up life for that. I can't imagine—having the choice taken from you like that."

"It feels like drowning," Nines says, voice cracking just a bit. 

Oh, shit, is he— 

No. As soon as Connor pulls his brother's face to meet his eyes, the momentary blip of emotion is swallowed by blankness again. Connor sighs. He can't say whether it's in relief or disappointment.

Nines doesn't seem to be inclined to speak any more, so Connor picks up the slack. "Simon, did you feed from Daniel, mostly? What do you do now?"

"Oh, uh." He blinks, shaking himself. "Yes, I did. We both feed from pouches now—I had to wean myself off of my brother's blood before I turned him." A nervous laugh escapes him. 

Daniel pats his brother's shoulder. "You feed from Nines, then?"

"I have to," Connor mumbles. "Another counter against the whole… magic poisoning thing."

Daniel stiffens. "What if you have to be separated for a while? How long can you go without?"

"Oh. I dunno, I guess I should ask." He fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt. The thought of being separated from Nines for any length of time is suddenly… displeasing. 

He wonders if he's developing a dependency.

Simon and Daniel exchange another uncertain look. 

"Hey," Connor blurts, "Is there a Carl around here?"

Daniel eyes him, brows furrowed in confusion. "Carl? Yes, why?"

"Our mentor wanted us to pass a hello to him." 

Simon's eyebrows lift. "Your mentor knows Carl?"

Connor shrugs. 

"Huh. Well, Markus can take you to see him, if he's awake. One moment." Simon stands, and they all watch as he walks to the outdoor area the others went to earlier.

"Hey, Markus! Connor and Nines want to see Carl, is that okay?"

An indistinct reply, and then a few moments later, Markus is shuffling in. "Hey," he says, "What do you need to see Carl for?"

"Our mentor wanted to say hello."

"Oh. Sure. Follow me."

Connor obeys, Nines trailing after him like a silent ghost. 

"Carl's my dad, if you didn't know," Markus informs them, as they ascend the staircase in the foyer. "He adopted me before magic was revealed. He wanted to stay away from the drama of magical society at first, but, well." He chuckles. "I guess I got bored. I'm glad things changed, even if I think magic and mundane worlds could integrate with each other more, rather than trying so hard to stay separate."

"I was wondering about that." Connor hums. "You're a holy sorcerer, right? Antithesis to Simon and Daniel, vampires. You've got North, a fae, and Josh— he's a regular human, isn't he? How did all this happen? Isn't it… discouraged, at the very least? For all of you to be together?"

Markus smiles at him, a little lopsided. "It's a long story." He turns around, then, and opens the door to a smaller room. 

Connor immediately notices the person lying on the bed in the center of the room, idly drawing his hands across a reading tablet. He looks aged, tired. Connor can't help but wonder how much time he has left. At their entry, he looks up. "Oh, Markus." He blinks, eyes flicking to Connor and Nines. "Who're these folks?"

"They're the ones I told you would come by, earlier today."

"Hello," Connor says. "My name is Connor. This is my brother Nines. Thank you for having us." 

"Nice to meet you," Carl waves a hand. "You two must be the twins the news couldn't stop talking about for a few days."

Connor purses his lips. "I suppose." He notices Nines stepping around behind him, probably observing the room, but he doesn't pay much attention to it. "Mr. Kamski wanted to say hello."

Both Markus and Carl look at him. "You mean to say," Markus shapes his words slowly, "your mentor is Elijah Kamski himself?"

"Uh." Connor fidgets. "Yes."

A barking laugh makes him jump. "Oh, I can't believe it! Elijah finally got himself some kids to take care of!" He wheezes. "That guy has no idea how to interact with people, I can't believe…" He trails off with another weak laugh. 

"Carl, please don't strain yourself." Markus approaches him, easing the man back to a more relaxed position. 

"Give it a rest, Markus," he complains. "Let an old man have his last laughs."

"Carl…" Markus's tone is chiding. 

Carl ignores him, waving at Connor. "Well, come on. How's he been? Is he still as much of a bastard as he used to be?"

"He teaches effectively, though his methods are sometimes… hm. Nines and I currently categorize him as… 'less of a bastard.'"

He's rewarded with a snort. "Wouldn't expect anything less. How 'bout you, Nines? You've been quiet this whole time."

Connor turns around to see Nines hovering his hand over the books lined in a shelf. He straightens, turning around. "I don't particularly have much to add to what Connor said. I suppose he looks at us a little too much like research material to be strictly comforting, but I have the sense that he does act for our benefit." 

"Yeah," a scoff. "Always been a nerd, that one. I wouldn't fault him for it, he just likes to know." 

"Fair enough," Nines murmurs, eyes falling back to the books.

Carl notices, of course. "Curious?"

"You have a lot of folktales," Nines notes. "Among other things."

Connor watches as Carl's mouth twists in a crooked grin. "Folktales, or history? You can take a look if you want. Don't let me stop you."

Nines lets out a hum, sliding one of the books out. _Anthology of English Folk Tales._ He flips through it, before sliding it back. Connor comes up behind him as his brother pulls out another, resting a head on his shoulder. 

_Myths of Japan._ As Nines flips through it, Connor sees a bunch of illustrations—tengu, he thinks, birdlike creatures. A woman made of ice and snow. Shapeshifting cats. A fish with a human face. Nines pauses there, drawing his fingers across the illustration. He shuts the book. "How much of it is true, and how much of it is embellished fiction?" 

"All of it is based in fact, at least," Carl shrugs. "I've tried to collect the ones that are the most accurate. Written by members of magical society, some of them under a mundane guise."

"I see," Nines murmurs, slipping the book back in place. "Thank you for allowing me to peruse your collection, if only briefly." 

"The pleasure is all mine," Carl drawls. "If you want, you can borrow one. I've read all of them already." 

Nines turns slightly, displacing Connor from his shoulder. "Would… that be alright?" 

"Knock yourself out. Gives you another excuse to come over and tell me how terrible of a guardian Elijah is."

Nines hums, turning around and dragging a finger across the spines. He pauses, humming softly, and slides down one decorated with swirling patterns of gold, aged but still mostly intact. He slides it out. _Legendary Alchemists: Lead to Gold._ "Would this one be alright?" 

Carl makes a gesture iconic of 'go ahead.'

They leave soon after, but not before they see the others again. Simon and Daniel must have told them a bit about their situation, since there's an air of uneasiness underlying the casual exchange. 

Connor exchanges numbers with all of them. Nines doesn't, but he supposes it doesn't matter at this point. 

"Thank you for inviting us," Connor is sure to tell Josh before they leave. He's walked them to the door. "It was nice to meet all of your friends. We haven't really talked to anyone besides each other and our mentor."

"Ah, geez, it's no problem at all. It's really great to see the two of you are… okay, at least." He pauses. "Did no one else contact you?"

"No," Connor blinks innocently, "why would they?"

Josh's brow furrows. "Did you not have—?" He clips his statement short, but it's fairly easy to guess. 

"It's always just been the two of us," Nines says. 

Josh looks like he's trying not to burst into tears. "God," he mutters. "I know we're not… close, or anything, but can I hug you two? Would you be okay with that?"

Surprise rings across his connection with his brother. 

"Uh," Connor fumbles, "I'm okay with it? Nines?"

His brother's expression is still mostly neutral, but Connor can feel the uncertainty.

So he gives Nines a shoulder pat. "That's okay," he says, and turns back to Josh. "Just me for now." 

Josh gives Nines a concerned look, before nodding and carefully wrapping his arms around Connor. It's… nice. Warm. He hasn't gotten a lot of hugs from other people, and it's different, but still nice. He lays his hands on Josh's back. 

This close, Josh's scent is stronger—there are faint earthy tones and a hint of coffee underlying the pleasant scent that he presumes is common to humans. 

They pull away a few seconds later. "You're welcome to talk to or meet with any of us, okay? Just drop us a line anytime." 

"Okay," Connor says. "Thank you."

They walk out the front door, Nines's borrowed book tucked under his arm. It's nighttime now, stars blinking in the distant sky. 

"Did you like them?" Connor asks.

"I think so. Ask me again later." 

Once he's back to normal. "Okay," Connor says, laying his head on Nines's shoulder. He pulls up Kamski's number, hitting _Call._ It's picked up only after a few seconds. 

_"Hello, Connor. How did it go?"_

"I think it was good. Can you come get us?" 

_"Certainly."_

A shadow forms in front of them—a portal, or something like it. Connor takes Nines's hand and they both walk through, allowing themselves to be swallowed by darkness.

Kamski's face greets them on the other side, as they emerge back into the minimalistic cleanliness of their home. "Did you give Carl my regards?" 

"Of course," Connor replies. "He thinks you're a bastard."

"I would expect no less," Kamski chuckles. "We knew each other, back before he left magical society behind to live a more mundane life. He got tired of the ways things used to work, but went through a different method of dealing with it."

 _Different method_ is certainly one way to put it. Kamski's involved overturning society itself.

"He let Nines borrow a book," Connor adds. "We'll probably have to return it at some point."

Kamski raises an eyebrow. "Did he now?" He draws his eyes to the book tucked under Nines's arm. Nines makes no move to show him the title. "Hm. Let me know when you'd like to do so."

"Right," Connor says, and Kamski disappears in a flare of shadow. 

Connor grabs Nines's hand. "Wanna go eat? After you put your book down."

"Very well," he says, and lets Connor lead the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3
> 
> *slides [this](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ningyo) over*


	10. Seeking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is the solution. The only solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: ~2040

Nines reads _Legendary Alchemists_ whenever he can. He's glued to it while eating, before sleeping, after waking up. He takes it to lessons, and reads it while Kamski focuses on Connor. 

At some point, Kamski noticed the title, and something flickered across his face. He'd hummed, then, but didn't comment on it. 

Nines asks Connor to feed from his wrist, mostly. It's hard to focus after being bitten on the neck, and he _needs_ to read this, to finish it. 

His mind feels muted from Connor after a few days of that, and it's clear that Connor is uneasy from it. "I'm worried about you," he says. "It feels like you're getting further away." 

Something in him twists at that, and he closes his book to hug Connor. 

His brother helps him repaint his nails after that. He can still read with one hand, after all.

Of course, Kamski's lessons continue. "I want to try something with your dark magic today, Nines," he says one day. 

Hmm. He hasn't actually used it in any significant capacity, yet. 

"Would you like to learn how to shadow-step?"

"Is that the teleporting thing you do?" Connor asks. 

Kamski smiles. "Indeed. There's a light-type variant that I've looked into, I can try teaching it to you sometime." He turns back to Nines. "Try activating your dark magic specifically." 

A simple matter. He recalls the feeling, parallel to the usual sensation of reaching for his primary threads. Within moments, a dark smoke drifts from his hands. 

"Excellent. Expand that across your body. Consider it _part_ of your body."

The shadows expand, coating him in a layer of darkness. He closes his eyes as it envelops his face as well. It's not… _quite_ the same feeling as when Kamski shadow-steps with them. Nines experiments with his magic, trying to capture that sensation— 

He's weightless. Massless. Pure shadow. Which way is up? 

A trickle of _something_ worms its way into his mind. Was he not supposed to go this far yet? What if he can't get out?

_"It's alright. Being incorporeal can be disorienting. Try to expand your senses—you should be able to detect light and darkness like this."_

Expand his senses? He tries to… reach out. Like straining his eyes to see or ears to hear, only he doesn't have any at the moment. 

Slowly, things come into definition. There's… the light bouncing off the floor. A mass of darkness in front of him. Off to the side— 

There's a band, or something, connecting him to something that glows with familiarity. _Connor?_

A muted response. _Nines?_

He's right in front of that light in an instant, and then, suddenly, the world returns, and he's _really_ falling. Hands jerk up to catch him, and he's spared from making an unfortunate collision with the bench. "Nines, you okay?"

He hums, allowing himself to sink into Connor's hold. "Disorienting. Saw your light. Followed."

"For the first time, you did exceptionally well." Kamski's voice comes up behind him. "You say you saw a light from Connor?"

Nines gives an agreeing hum. "A string connects us. You are… just darkness."

"Very interesting. It seems you have a powerful perception of magic wavelengths…"

That seems about right, from what he's observed. 

There's a pause. "Were you afraid, just now? Of being lost in darkness."

"No. Yes. I don't know," he mumbles, burying his face in Connor's shoulder. 

"I see…" There's a sound of something shifting, and then—a pat on his head, quickly withdrawn.

Nines blinks. Sits up, turns around, sees Kamski looking at his hand, an unsure look on his face for once. 

"My apologies," he mutters. "If that was unwelcome."

Was it? Nines lifts a hand to touch his head, where the sensation seemed to linger. "No," he says, quietly. "I don't mind."

Kamski blinks. "Alright," he says, and then moves on to teach Connor. Nines watches for a bit. And then he picks up his book and loses his mind in it once more.

* * *

Nines finishes _Legendary Alchemists_ that night. Connor's leaning on his shoulder, idly fiddling with the edge of his sleeve, eyes closed.

As soon as he closes the book, Connor blinks his eyes open and pulls himself up. "Done?"

Nines nods. It was… enlightening. But insufficient. He still… 

Connor's looking at him. Worried. Nines feels a nudge at the edge of his mind—like his brother is trying to reach for him, but there's a frosted glass between them. 

It's been three days since the last time Connor fed from him at the neck. Three days since they toed the border of two and one.

Nines puts the book down on the bedside table, and then turns around to look at his brother, his worried face. It flickers to confused when Nines wraps a hand around the back of his head and pulls him to Nines's exposed neck. 

"Nines?"

"Go on," he says. 

A shiver runs across Connor's body, and he lifts his arms to circle around Nines. Sharp points graze at his skin, and then sink in. 

"Mm…" He can't help the sound that escapes him, as the familiar sensation washes away the brief spike of pain, the long-standing tension, the worries in his mind. Some part of him observes Connor easing him to his back as he loses the strength to hold himself upright. 

He's buoyant, floating on the crest of connection as threads intertwine, as pieces click into place. As, once again, Connor fills the empty landscape of his mind. 

He hides nothing. He surrenders everything. It frees him, for just this moment. Absolves him of the control he so doggedly maintains. He knows, of course, that Connor will see, like this. He'll see the spark of hope that Nines has been kindling underneath it all. 

Sure enough, his mind is flooded with realization, shock, surprise. Connor abruptly pulls out his fangs and leans back, shattering much of the haze over Nines's mind. 

"You—" And then he seems to realize that he just left Nines with an open bite. "Shit." He presses a hand to Nines's neck, grimacing. Revealing his fangs stained with crimson. 

Nines barely moves—he might describe his current state as similar to sleep paralysis. He only blinks at his brother slowly, meeting the searching gaze of those golden eyes. 

Connor's brow furrows in worry, stress. _"That's_ what you're trying to do?"

 _Yes,_ Nines thinks. Words seem like too much effort at the moment. _It is the solution. The only solution._

Connor bites his lip, looking off to the side. And then he sighs. "Okay. Okay. But you should tell Mr. Kamski. If you—I'm sure he can help. I'm sure he can make sure you don't do anything stupid."

 _Okay,_ Nines agrees easily. 

Connor sighs, and lifts his hand from Nines's neck, making a face at the mess. It's starting to hurt again. "Sorry," he says.

_You can finish, it's okay._

His brother pauses, and then nods. 

Sinks his teeth back into the bite, sending Nines into floating bliss yet again.

* * *

He wakes up curled around Connor, feeling fingers brushing through his hair. He must've taken care of the mess after Nines fell asleep—he doesn't remember much after the second bite. 

_Hey, Nines. You really phased out there._

He hums. Maybe getting bitten twice pumps too much venom into his system. He peels himself away, rubbing at his eyes. A glance at the clock on his desk informs him that it's 10 AM. 

_… I slept for twelve hours._

Connor laughs lightly, hands sliding down to Nines's forearms. _Yeah. You needed it._

It's true that reading has been cutting into his sleep a bit. Hmm. He looks up to see Connor watching him. "Are you going to tell him, then?" 

Nines blinks. Nods. Turns to speak to the empty room. "Mr. Kamski." 

He senses the shift in the shadows before he sees it, and the vampire coalesces before them. "Nines. Connor. Good morning," he greets. 

"Good morning," Nines echoes. "I am seeking immortality."

Kamski stares at him. 

"There are methods, aren't there? To achieve immortality without losing humanity."

Their mentor blinks slowly. "Do you realize," he says with deliberate words, "how many have been driven to despair and madness in their search for immortality?"

"Yes, but there are those who haven't. There are those who have succeeded. Those who consume the flesh of a mermaid—"

"Are often cursed with loneliness and misfortune."

Nines hisses out a breath. "... The philosopher's stone. Nicolas Flamel—"

"Hid his secrets and disappeared from society. He believed that immortality was not for the human soul." 

Something cracks in him. "Well, then it's a good thing half of my soul isn't _human!"_ He whips a hand to the side as the words tear themselves from him. 

Connor's hands are immediately on his shoulders. Kamski's eyes widen. "Nines. Immortality is often highly conditional, or otherwise difficult to achieve. More often than not, there's a price to pay, and I cannot in good conscience encourage—"

"I don't _care!"_ His vision starts to blur. "You can't keep this from me! I can't—I can't grow apart from Connor, I—" he gasps desperately. It feels like he's running out of air. A heavy weight breaking through thin walls. He's drowning. "I'd rather die than grow apart, but I can't, he'll be alone, then he'll die, and I can't let—I can't let that happen—!"

He's being pulled down to a familiar position. Hand in his hair. Wrapped in a familiar embrace. Flooded with reassurances in his mind. His body is shaking with unstoppable tremors, he realizes. He's gasping into cool skin, burning tears spilling unbidden from his eyes. "Please." He chokes out. "Please, I can't, I can't…"

Connor shushes him gently, more for the sound than the meaning. Fingers card across his scalp. "It's okay, Nines. It's okay. Let it out." Careful ministrations, handling him like broken glass. 

Slowly, he pieces himself back together. He's not sure how long it takes. Time is beyond him. He thinks Connor and Kamski talk at some point, but the words evade him. Only impressions, only the familiar voices, hovering distantly in the periphery of his fragmented awareness. 

The shaking stops, at some point. It doesn't feel like he can't get enough air anymore. Senses regain resolution—he focuses on the feeling of fingers in his hair, the regularity of his breaths, the encompassing feeling of Connor wrapped around him. Of Connor in his mind. It feels… _safe._

He opens his eyes, and sees Kamski sitting on the bed in front of them. As soon as he sees Nines watching him, he straightens. "I'm sorry," he says. "I understand why you… mm. I did not mean to upset you." The vampire looks away. "The extent of my knowledge on human immortality is limited, but… I have access to extensive magical research databases. I will assist you."

"Y—" his voice cracks embarrassingly, and he tries again. "You will?"

Kamski looks back at him. "To deny you this would be cruel, and you would likely continue to seek it on your own. If I assist, I can prevent you from doing anything foolish." 

"Oh…"

He gives a soft sigh. "The two of you are dangerously dependent on each other. You seem to be in balance, at least. It's… not uncommon for split-soul individuals to be such." A strange expression passes over their mentor's face, then. He lifts a hand, hesitates, and puts it back down. Another moment, and he stands. "I'll leave the two of you alone for today. Tomorrow…" He gives something like a smile. "We'll learn about immortality." 

Shadows swirl around him, but he doesn't instantly vanish. "Nines?" 

He meets Kamski's eyes. Neutral, a cool mask of calm, as always.

"I regret it happened this way, but I'm glad to see that you're letting yourself feel again." Without further ado, he dissolves into darkness. 

They don't move for a bit. Connor eventually gives a light tug on his arm, and he allows himself to be pulled down to lying on his side, facing Connor.

"Hello," Connor says. "I missed you."

Nines hums. "Sorry it took so long."

"It's okay." Connor pulls him close. "It's okay. I'm just glad you're better now."

Nines closes his eyes, letting himself sink onto the comfort of his brother's embrace. 

Not everything is solved. Not yet. But now, at least—Nines can let himself hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the part where I can finally say that I got some inspiration from [this](https://twitter.com/rfarrowster/status/1037931161891287040?s=20) aheh
> 
> ALSO something I must say:  
> I consider sensual love to be an entirely different flavor of love - separate from romantic or sexual love, which it is usually associated with.  
> Hugs and closeness and feeling nice and everything doesn't necessarily have to do with romance or sexuality, after all, though I suppose they often come together.  
> Platonic sensuality is very interesting to me, though.


	11. Traces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People to find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: ~3450

As promised, Kamski teaches them about immortality the next day. Only Nines _needs_ to learn, but Connor asked if he could join as well, just as Nines had asked to join in on his vampirism lessons. 

So they end up sitting in one of the living rooms. Kamski has a tablet with him, various windows open to different articles, as far as Connor can tell. 

"There are many kinds of immortality," Kamski begins. "Some stop you from aging. Water from the Fountain of Youth will do just that, but it exists beyond the mundane plane and is… particularly guarded." He shifts slightly, leaning back on the sofa. "Some make it very difficult or impossible to kill you. Werewolves, for instance, have hyper-regenerative capabilities that can heal almost any injury, even if they can die of age." 

Kamski looks down at the tablet, absently tapping the screen. "Some give you eternal existence in other ways. If a phoenix blesses you and gives you its life force, you will die brilliant, flaming deaths, and reincarnate limitlessly from your ashes."

He sighs. "Many of these cost you your humanity. All those options can be immediately discarded. And I won't allow you to make a pact with a being of higher power—the price is often very costly on many levels."

"What sort of thing is usually asked for?" Nines asks. 

"Souls are fairly popular. Your happiness. Your luck. Your ability to feel some emotion, or your ability to feel at all." Kamski levels an intense look at Nines. "You are strictly forbidden from making a pact with a higher being for immortality, do you understand?"

Nines nods. "Yes, Mr. Kamski. I was simply curious." 

"Fair enough."

Connor twists his fingers together. "What kind of immortality can Nines get, then?" 

"Something with eternal youth at the bare minimum, of course," Kamski answers. "Though it would be convenient to have regenerative abilities to go with it—to recover all the blood you drink, ha." 

"Oh," Connor says, gripping his hands together. Nines puts a hand on his arm, an abstract feeling of reassurance slipping into his mind. 

His brother turns back to Kamski. "The Elixir of Life is still the best option. As an alchemical concoction, there aren't any prices to pay or curses to worry about." A pause, and then he adds: "According to Carl's book, it grants eternal youth along with an immunity to disease and rapid healing."

Kamski smiles wryly. "Yes, that's all well and good, except for the fact that the only one to know the method to produce it has gone to great lengths to hide it."

"But he found it from somewhere else, didn't he?" Nines argues. "The ancient texts he referenced—if you have access to them, we could try to decipher the recipe."

Their mentor sighs. "It's not so simple. Flamel didn't decrypt a text to find an exact recipe. He interpreted the theory behind the text and experimented with various materials until he had a concrete composition for the Elixir—and for the Stone needed to transmute it. Even if we had the same texts, I doubt we'll be able to reach a solution so easily." 

Nines opens his mouth to respond, and then straightens, an inkling of suspicion trickling into his mind. "Do you know him?"

If Kamski wasn't always unnaturally still, Connor would've sworn he froze. 

"Nicolas Flamel. You said that you're unfamiliar with human immortality, yet you seem to know oddly specific details about how Flamel discovered the Stone and the Elixir. Not to mention, your prominence and influence in society…"

Kamski tilts his head, watching Nines. 

Nines stands up. "Mr. Kamski, if you know him, we could _ask—"_

"No," Kamski interrupts, holding up a hand. "He approached me specifically because he did not wish detailed knowledge of immortality to spread to the mundane world. I doubt he'll agree to share his secrets now."

Nines lets out a frustrated sigh. "You don't know that for sure. Maybe he'll make an exception."

"Even if that were the case, we only meet when _he_ wishes it. He hides even from me—we'll go years without seeing each other."

A single barking laugh escapes from Nines. "I can hardly believe that _you,_ Mr. _Elijah Kamski,_ don't have the resources and connections to track down a single man you already know. You overturned society, and you're telling me you wouldn't be able to make a meeting with him happen?" 

Kamski's eyebrows eyebrows are raised. He looks almost impressed. "Well," he starts, only to be interrupted by the sound of a doorbell ringing throughout the house. He tilts his head toward the sound. "Ah, visitors. How curious." He takes a step into shadow—only for Nines to do the same, and for both of them to reform a few feet away, Nines grabbing Kamski's arm even as he stumbles out of the darkness.

Kamski grabs one of his shoulders to stabilize him. "While I'm impressed you can intercept me, I truly must attend to the visitors."

As soon as Nines gets his bearings, he straightens and narrows his eyes at Kamski. "What about Flamel?" 

The vampire only arches an eyebrow. "Mm. We'll see." He gives Nines a pat on the arm, and, seeing that Nines can stand on his own, vanishes once more. 

Nines sighs frustratedly. Connor pads over to him, hooking an arm around his shoulders. "It's gonna be okay, Nines. Mr. Kamski may be a bastard, but at least he seems to be a relatively nice bastard. He probably just didn't want to promise anything he couldn't."

A moment passes, and then Nines turns to wrap his arms around Connor. _This is our best chance,_ Nines murmurs in their minds. _I can't… I have to—every second that passes is another second to divide us._

The thought is chilling, in a strange way, and Connor squeezes his arms around his brother. _I just don't want you to burn yourself out in the process…_

"Hem." 

They pull apart to see Kamski looking at them. "Come with me, please," he says, holding out a hand. "This involves you two." 

"Us?" He's pretty sure it's not public information that they're here.

 _It shouldn't be,_ Nines confirms, even as he reaches forward to take Kamski's hand. 

As soon as they make contact, all three of them are plunged into the familiar darkness of falling-not-falling. In seconds, they're back on solid ground. The black nothingness peels away, revealing Kamski's back in front of them, and beyond that, two unfamiliar-but-familiar faces. 

Connor feels like he should recognize them, but he doesn't. 

_They're the ones I talked to the day of your—your attack. Lieutenant Hank Anderson and Detective Gavin Reed, I believe… it might be the echo of my memories in yours._

Oh. _Why would they be here, then?_

 _I'm not sure,_ Nines answers. _Nothing good, I'd imagine._

"Here they are," Kamski announces, drawing them out of their rapid-fire exchange. He steps aside, opening his door further to give the two policemen a better view of Connor and Nines. 

The older one—Anderson—immediately looks at Nines, and then to Connor, and then back. "Uh, hey. Lieutenant Hank Anderson. Good to see you two are okay."

Reed scoffs, arms crossed. He looks like he might say something, but only grimaces after a pause and remains silent.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Nines inclines his head towards them, "You two as well."

"Nines, right? And, uh, Connor? Geez, you two really look alike."

They both nod, and Hank's lips tighten in something that might be an attempt at a smile.

Reed sighs. "Gonna finish the pleasantries any time soon? We're here to work, not talk." 

The lieutenant shoots him an irritated look, but turns back and hisses a breath out through his teeth. "You filed a lawsuit against the sire of Connor's attacker, right, Nines?"

Oh, right. That. 

"I did, yes," Nines replies. "Why?"

"We found out she disappeared last night," Reed drawls, stepping closer. "We're hoping we can get a tracking spell on her from your," he jerks his chin at Connor, "blood. 'S easier to track a vampire from a descendant than anything else." 

As the detective draws near, though, his scent washes over Connor, breaking through the alcohol-and-pine impressions he gets from the lieutenant. Reed smells of bitter coffee and sleepless nights, but what grabs Connor's attention is the hint of something similar to what he can only describe as the scent of Kamski's darkness. 

He can't help a quick glance at his mentor, who's only smiling placidly in that way he does. 

_What is it, Connor?_

_Detective Reed smells a little like Mr. Kamski._

_… Oh, hm. Hmmm._

"This is an excellent opportunity, actually," Kamski says suddenly, clapping his hands together once. "Why don't I teach you two the spell so you can track my wayward vampiric sibling? There are some affairs I wish to attend to, for which I may be absent for a few days." 

Reed snorts. "What, right now? Can't be _that_ easy to learn." 

"I'm not concerned, when it comes to them," Kamski replies, smiling. "But please, come in, if you can spare waiting for ten minutes or so."

Anderson gives Reed a look—and sighs. "Yeah, whatever. If you'll have us." 

"Excellent. Take a seat, if you like," Kamski gestures to the two chairs in the foyer, "Connor, Nines, I can teach you right here." 

The policemen shuffle over to the chairs as Kamski lowers himself to sit cross-legged on the floor. The vampire gestures in front of him—for Connor and Nines to sit down, too, probably. 

Nines obeys first, Connor following immediately after. "The tracking spell they spoke of falls under the category of blood magic," Kamski begins. "We haven't worked with it too much, yet, but this spell is fairly basic. The easiest way to do this will be for me to demonstrate, and then for the two of you to copy me. Nines has excellent intuition—I expect he'll understand the theory quickly, even if it may be more difficult for him to execute for lack of affinity. Still, he can likely guide you," he nods at Connor, "More easily than I." 

At their nods, he grins crookedly. "Excellent. Watch me, then." Kamski lengthens a nail to a point and drags it smoothly against his wrist, blood immediately welling up and dripping—only to curl back around, as if suspended in zero-gravity, as he hovers his free hand over the wound. "Focus your magic on the blood, and think of your target. The more details you have, the stronger the spell. Keep in mind that this will only work if you are blood-related—by birth or by your vampiric blood—or if you have a blood sample of your target." He curls his fingers, and the blood forms a ring around his wrist. "If the spell takes…" The ring sinks under his skin, right at the cut—it looks like a tattoo, almost. "It will manifest as this sort of mark. If you think of your target, you will feel a pull towards them." 

He reaches forward and puts a hand on Connor's shoulder. When he pulls back, the mark is melting away. "The spell will end when you touch your target or manually deactivate it." He slides a hand across his wrist, and the wound vanishes, along with any remaining blood. "If you don't have rapid healing, you'll have to take care of your wound, of course." He smirks. "Though I suppose that's not a problem for you," he looks at Nines, "when Connor's here to lick your wounds."

Nines sighs. 

_It's convenient!_

_It sure is._ The exasperation is clear.

"Does he mean that literally, or…?" Connor hears from off to the side. Anderson, he thinks. 

"Fuck if I know," comes the reply. 

Connor ignores them, instead tilting his head at their mentor. "I've been meaning to ask—do people usually have a chant or something to cast spells?"

"Many do," Kamski shrugs, "But the words themselves aren't the source of power for this kind of magic. They're more of a crutch for focus, and I've always found them unnecessary." 

"Hmm, 'kay." Connor has the feeling that Kamski might be an exception here. 

Still— _May I borrow a claw, Connor? I think I get the idea._

Connor holds a hand to his brother, lengthening his nails. Nines wraps his hand around the back of Connor's, pulling the thumb to press into his own wrist. With only a moment of hesitation, he slices across the flesh, and Connor is immediately assaulted by the scent of his blood. He can feel his eyes shift as he stares at the free-flowing crimson. 

"Shit, his eyes…" Anderson again. 

Nines frowns at the wound, letting go of Connor to hover his hand over it. After a few seconds, the flow slows—like it's in low gravity, but not the full suspension of Kamski's spell. 

"Holy shit. He's actually doing it." Reed, this time. 

Nines sighs quietly, brow furrowing in concentration. The blood quivers in the air, and then—it loops around Nines's wrist, sinking into the skin to form the mark. He lets out a heavy exhale, blinking at the dark ring on his skin. Then he takes Connor's hand, and the mark fades to nothing, leaving only the sluggish bleeding of the cut. 

"I would expect no less," Kamski crows, clearly pleased. 

Connor agrees. Nines has always been capable of nearly everything he put his mind to. 

Still, right, now, there are more pressing matters. He adjusts his grip on Nines's hand and lifts it up— 

"Ah, shit, it _was_ literal…" 

The taste is just slightly different, this time. He wonders if it's because he just used a different kind of magic on it. Still distinctly Nines, though. He cleans most of the blood off in a single swipe of his tongue, and then lets go, straightening. 

Nines looks exasperated. Kamski looks amused. Anderson looks mildly disgusted, and Reed is just on his phone. "I should probably mention that vampires don't tend to feed in front of anyone that isn't kin." Kamski chuckles airily. "Or, well, do _that."_

"Oh." That makes sense. "At least we're at home right now? Not public, at least." 

"Yes, with a peanut gallery." 

He sees Reed stick his middle finger at Mr. Kamski without looking up from his phone. Connor finds it oddly amusing. "I'll keep that in mind," he says, once he turns back. 

"Do you want to try it now?" Nines asks him. "The spell." 

"Oh, right." He lifts a hand to his wrist, and pauses. "I don't know her name," he realizes. "I don't even know the name of my sire…"

He looks at Kamski with something that might be a beseeching look. "Should that matter? I don't think I even care. He… killed me, in a way, and I…" 

"You are not defined by who made you any more than you wish to be." Kamski's face is neutral, calm. "He can be no one important. Forgotten, if you so desire." 

Connor nods, eyes falling as Nines lifts a hand to thumb soothingly at his shoulder. "Does he need to know the name of the target for the spell?"

"No," Kamski shakes his head. "But it would make it easier. And more effective."

"Tell me," Connor says. "It's fine if it's—she's not the one that turned me, it's fine." 

"Very well. Samantha Weisenfeld," Kamski informs him. "Turned at twenty years of age, 126 years ago." He turns to their guests. "Did you come with a picture?"

"Yeah, thought you'd need it." Reed pushes himself out of his chair, approaching them. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a photo, offering it to Connor. 

He accepts it, taking in the vampire captured in the image. Medium-toned skin. Dark eyes. Dark, short hair. Her expression is neutral, impassive.

He puts the picture down on the floor. "Okay," he says. "Okay." Like both Kamski and Nines had done, he slices open his wrist. It doesn't hurt all that much, which is nice. He tries to call on his magic as he lifts his hand over the cut. 

His blood starts to glow faintly, so he figures he's using the wrong kind of magic. He exhales, curling his fingers, trying to pick apart the tangle of threads within him. 

Nines projects a questioning feeling into his mind.

_I'm sure you can figure it out eventually, but if you like, I can help you pinpoint the thread of your blood magic._

Connor hums. _Sure._

A hand is on his shoulder, then, and Nines's familiar presence weaves into him. He feels his brother almost seeming to—straighten out the tangle within him, like he used to do with Connor's old wired earbuds. Methodically taking apart the knots until everything is neat and ordered—like strings on a violin, every wavelength enumerated and isolated. 

The grasp of Nines's magic seems to almost—strum across the threads, each one setting off a different burst of sensations within him. One is—sunlight on his face, buttery gold. Another—the warmth of holding his hands over an open fire. Then—an echo, distant, more like it was from Nines than him—the quiet emptiness before sleep, lights off, calm, quiet. 

_Interesting… all the darkness you could have been seems to exist in me, instead…_

_Huh._

Nines presses further, and Connor feels like he's… gently lifting out a thread hidden below the others, one that's barely been touched before. It feels like—a pull to Nines, to Kamski, to distant entities he's never known. It pulses through his veins, and he knows—this is the right one. 

He focuses on the feeling—Nines lets go of him, and his magic starts to melt together again—but he can still grasp the thread of that wavelength. He turns his attention back to the sluggishly bleeding cut on his wrist, thinks of Samantha Weisenfeld, and— 

It's done. The dark band is on his wrist, and thinking of her again gives him a slight tug of attention towards the door. 

"Well done," Kamski smiles. "It often takes a few tries for most people, but I'm glad to see the two of you taking to magic so well."

"Oh. Thanks," Connor mumbles, eyeing the cut on his wrist. It's mostly healed, but… he wonders if he could… 

He lifts it to his face, giving it a lick. And—that's new. He's never actually tasted his own blood before, but he's not surprised he can taste Nines in it, given that it's pretty much all originally Nines's blood. It feels more like an echo, though, and he's oddly reminded of drinking ice water. Cold and neutral. 

Connor sees Nines give him a faintly judging look. 

"I wanted to see if it would heal faster," Connor defends. It does, actually: he can see the wound closing before his eyes. 

"Please teach him the healing trick you keep doing sometime, Mr. Kamski," is all Nines says. 

Kamski laughs. "Certainly. But for now," he stands in one smooth motion, "I suppose that's enough for you all to continue your investigation, Lieutenant, Detective?"

"Oh—uh, yeah," Anderson gets up quickly. Reed follows suit, slightly more sedately. The detective was watching them, they realize. His look is still contemplative as Kamski places a hand on Connor's shoulder—once he's standing up—guiding him towards the exit. 

"Excellent," his mentor says. "Do make sure not to get them in trouble, will you? It would be _unfortunate_ if I find them at all harmed when you are done."

"Yeah, yeah, they're under our protection, won't let them get hurt," Reed waves flippantly. "We only need to track down the general location. We'll handle actually apprehending our runaway." 

Kamski smiles, baring his fangs, almost. "Good."

Without further ado, the policemen step outside, followed by Nines, and then Connor. The sudden realization that he's never been out the front door strikes him, and he barely manages to suppress his amusement. 

_We judged Mr. Kamski for never using the door to our room, but we've never used the door to his house until now,_ Connor informs his brother. 

Nines lets out a soft snort. 

"Take care, you two," Kamski calls out to them. They turn around to see Kamski smiling in that way he does—but maybe it's a little softer at the edges. "If you need me, you can call me. I will come." 

Nines nods. "Okay. Thank you, Mr. Kamski." 

Connor waves, and Kamski gives him a strange look at that—part of him wanted to think it might've been _fond—_ and then their mentor closes the door. 

They turn back to the policemen, who were apparently just unabashedly watching their interaction. Correction: Anderson seemed to feel awkward about it, at least, shuffling his feet to and fro. "Hey," he says. "Car?"

Connor smiles politely. "Sure." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter was being a little difficult for me :'>
> 
> But I have Plans now


	12. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Found you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Been a while, huh. My brain got snatched by another fic, which I am quietly working on before I post. But! I have ideas for this that I do want to get to, so I'll... get to it slowly....
> 
> Words: ~2200

"So," Reed drawls, "Considering that you just learned the spell, I'm guessing you don't know all the details about how it works."

Nines and his brother are in the backseat of Lieutenant Anderson's car. Reed is twisted back in the passenger's seat, raising an eyebrow at Connor.

"Is there more to it?" Connor asks. "I thought I'd just point you in the right direction until we're close."

"That's not always the best option." Anderson taps a finger on the wheel. "If they're really far, we could end up driving for days."

Nines hums. "I presume you speak from experience?"

"Yeah," Anderson confirms, "Not the first stray vampire or relative we've tracked down this way. Anyways," he pulls a tablet out of his chair's side pocket. "This is charmed with spatial magic or something. Not really precise, but if you hold it, the tracking spell should be able to narrow down the target a bit. If we're lucky, she hasn't left Detroit."

Connor takes the tablet, scooting closer to Nines so that he can see as well. 

It's always fascinating to see fusions of magic and technology. The advancements of both worlds, combined for even greater innovation. Nines draws a finger across the edge, humming as he feels the tingle of what must be the spatial charm. 

Connor frowns at the screen in concentration, before hesitantly zooming in on a portion of the map. After another moment, he slides it to the left—and then back right a bit, then up. A little more fiddling, and then he leans forward to hand the tablet back to Anderson. "Somewhere around here, I think."

Anderson takes it. "Huh. Still in Detroit after all. Looks like we can get there in under an hour…"

"Great," Reed tightens his lips in something like a smile. "Let's go, then."

The drive is quiet only for the few minutes it takes to get on the road before Anderson speaks up again. "You don't have to see her if you don't want to. You'll stay in the car once we narrow her down enough to go on foot—the car has protective wards on it, so you shouldn't be in danger." 

Connor hums in response. "You can probably find her faster if I come with, right?" 

"Yeah," Reed scoffs, "but your mentor will have our heads if you get in trouble." 

"We are both sorcerers, and Connor is light-aligned at that." Nines laces his fingers together in his lap. "Despite what Mr. Kamski said, we'll likely be fine. I can shadow-step us out of danger, if necessary, as well."

_You've never stepped with anyone else, though._

_It seems straightforward enough._

Connor squints at him. _You sure about that?_

They're interrupted by Reed— "Yeah, and despite what you say, you've only been awakened for what, less than a month?"

"Twenty days," Nines says quietly. "It's been twenty days since the attack." He turns to look out at the scenery rushing by. 

Connor's hand finds its way into his, and they grip each other firmly. 

"How's it been?" 

Nines turns back to see Reed looking forward again. "Living with Elijah Kamski himself as you're adjusting to all the magic shit," the detective elaborates. 

"Mr. Kamski is an effective teacher, as you saw earlier. He seems to adjust well to the different learning needs of myself and my brother." 

Reed huffs. "Right. Can't believe…" The second part was muttered lowly, but—it was enough for Nines to further his belief that the detective and their mentor knew each other. 

"He's kind of a bastard, but I think he really wants the best for us," Connor adds. "The way he goes about showing it, though…" 

A snort from Anderson. "Bastard, huh? What do you even do when he's not teaching you stuff?"

Nines hums. "We often just spend time alone together. Sometimes I draw, and Connor watches. We talk with Chloe, sometimes, too. We cook things together sometimes."

"You're the only one in that house that actually eats real food, right?" Anderson asks. "Do you go out and buy groceries or something?" 

Connor perks up. "Chloe has a garden! An indoor one, she grows all sorts of things there. I've been meaning to ask if I could help in there, but a lot has been… going on." 

Nines gives their linked hands a squeeze. _You were looking after me._

_Yeah, and you were, too._

More silence. 

"Does it get lonely," Reed asks, "being in that house? Only four of you, and it must be huge."

Nines tilts his head. "No? As long as I have Connor, that's enough." 

"Mr. Kamski keeps us busy most days, anyways." Connor leans against Nines's shoulder, which is a bit awkward with a seat in between them, even if they've scooted closer. "But I agree. It's just been… us. For a long time. And that's enough for me."

Nines can see the way Anderson's face twists in the mirror. It's the face people have when they tell others that both their parents are dead, when they tell others that all they have is each other. But—they're not unhappy with that. Those others seem to think there's something _wrong._ Can't they see? Connor completes him. He doesn't need anyone, anything more. More is just—… a luxury. 

Connor sidles closer to him at that. _I don't disagree, but maybe there's nothing wrong with wanting more… Do you want more?_

_I don't need more._

_Need doesn't have to do with want._

_… I don't know, then._ He hasn't… allowed himself to want. There's no point in wanting things you can't have, after all. 

_Maybe we can…_ Connor flickers memories of the visit to Carl's house. Josh, Markus, Simon, Daniel, North, Carl. _Did you like them?_

_I suppose I would not object to meeting them again._

"Hey, you two in there?" 

Nines blinks up at Reed. "Oh. I apologize if you spoke to us, we were conversing."

"You…" Reed scrunches his face. "What, are you telepathic, too?" 

"Just with each other," Connor answers the detective. "It has to do with our split soul bond, coupled with vampiric telepathy, I think."

"Oh, fun." Reed turns back around. 

A few minutes pass before Nines asks, "Do you have siblings, Detective Reed?" 

Reed stiffens tellingly, and Anderson shoots him a curious look. The detective looks back at them, eyes lingering on Connor, before sighing quietly. "Yeah. Half-brother."

Interesting. 

"Wha—seriously?" The lieutenant's tone is bewildered. He laughs breathily. "We've been working for how long and you never told me, huh?"

"He and I don't spend a lot of time together," Reed mutters. "We lead really different lives."

"Do you want to, though?" Connor asks. "Spend more time with him."

Reed takes a minute to respond. "That'd be nice."

The rest of the ride is quiet. Connor has given up the pretense of separation, shifting to the middle seat to lean against Nines. Their hands are still interlaced, and Nines lets himself relax in the closeness—not quite dozing, but not very aware, either. 

At some point, Anderson starts asking Connor for directions, and Nines distantly hears his brother give them. And then, eventually: "Hey," a gentle call. He blinks, looking up to see Anderson turned around, looking at Nines, and subsequently notices that the car has stopped. "We're here."

Connor sits up, peering through the window on Nines's side. Nines turns his eyes to the outside, as well. They're parked a ways off from an abandoned building—an apartment complex, possibly, though not too large and noticeably aged. 

"She's somewhere inside," Connor murmurs. "The feeling's pretty strong, now."

"Great." Anderson steps out of the car. "You two stay. Gavin and I will take it from here."

Connor frowns. "You'd find her faster if I come with you. And what if she runs?" 

"What if she attacks you?" Reed counters. "It'd be nice if she came peacefully, but you never know."

Nines flicks his wrist, and a blade of ice immediately forms in his hand with the sound of crackling frost. "We can defend ourselves. And escape, as I've mentioned." 

Reed starts slightly at the magic, and then frowns severely, turning to Anderson. "Hank?"

The lieutenant gives them a long look, before sighing. "It's a pretty big complex, so it'd definitely help to have you with us…" He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Alright, fine. But stay behind us, got it?"

"Got it," Connor replies easily. Nines gives him a side-eye. 

So they make their way inside the front door, trailing behind the two policemen. It's unlocked, and the door creaks noisily when Anderson pushes it open. 

"Upstairs," Connor informs them. "One of the higher floors, I think." So they make their way up the rickety stairs. 

Connor stops them at the fourth floor, and they exit the staircase into a long hall, light filtering through the old and cracked windows. 

"We're close… one of the rooms on the left." He directs them to the third door down, and then Reed corrals them back a bit as Anderson knocks on the door. 

Nines grabs Connor's arm. _Something feels strange._

_Strange? Like what?_

_I'm not sure…_

There's no answer to the knock, or to the lieutenant's command to 'open up.' Anderson exchanges a look with Reed, and then readies his gun before kicking open the door. 

All four of them freeze at the sight. There, lying in the middle of the room, is Samantha Weisenfeld. She's wearing a loose gray robe, loose cloth spilled around her. Her eyes are open, staring at nothing, and her hands lay limply at her sides. 

The most noticeable thing, however, is the perfect circle transcribed around her. In blood. The air hums with that strange feeling from earlier, and—"A demon summoning," Nines realizes. And by the looks of it, her soul has been taken, leaving only an empty shell behind. 

"Shit," Anderson curses. "Shit. Gav, take them back to the car. Need to call supernatural forensics…"

"Y—yeah." Reed tugs them backwards, pulling them away from the scene. "Fuck. Things always get messy when demons are pulled into things… especially the deal-making ones, fuck."

Connor's grip on his arm is grounding as he tries to fit the pieces together. But the only conclusions he can make cause a cold feeling to grip him. "What kind of deal would she make," he asks no one in particular, once they're outside. "If she's resentful… at Connor, for… her progeny? Or me, for holding her responsible…? Both…?" He grabs Connor's hand, squeezing tightly. "Is she… her deal… targeting us…?"

"I don't know," Reed says tightly as he opens the door of the car, ushering them in. "But that's something we'll have to look into." He pulls a hand roughly through his hair. "Stay here, I'm gonna go back to the scene." 

Both Connor and Nines nod mutely as the detective slams the door shut and slinks away. 

Connor sits back, sighing softly, before lifting his wrist. "Guess I don't need this anymore," he mutters. His brows furrow slightly in concentration, and the mark melts away. He looks at Nines, then, and something flickers across his face before he reaches forward, curling his arms around Nines, pulling him close. 

"It'll be okay, Nines," he murmurs softly, lifting a hand to brush through Nines's hair. "We'll be okay."

Nines only wraps his arms around his brother, squeezing tightly. But eventually, Connor's ministrations do their job to calm him down, and he sinks bonelessly into his brother's hold. 

Connor's motions falter for a moment, a surprise and wariness echoing through their bond. _Someone's there,_ he informs Nines. _Looking at the building._

Nines stiffens. _Show me,_ he says, and Connor's vision blooms in his own mind. There, standing far away—far enough that only Connor's enhanced eyes would be able to pick out the details—is a relatively short, dark-skinned woman. Her hair is braided, it seems, and pulled into a low bun. Her outfit consists of cascading cloth, white and teal, and she holds a red Japanese parasol. She's turned just slightly away from them, but she shifts, starting to turn around— 

Both of them jerk in surprise when the car door opens, "Alright, we're done here," Anderson tells them. "We're gonna take you home, okay? Kamski's place looks to be charmed to hell and back, so whatever she's getting the demon to do, you should be safe there." 

"O-oh," Connor blinks rapidly. "Um." He looks back towards the person, but Nines hears him inhale sharply and turns around to see for himself—she's gone. 

Uneasiness sets into his nerves. "Did you see someone else here?" Nines asks. "Someone with a red parasol."

"Someone else?" Reed echoes, as he slides into the car. "No one else is around for miles, as far as I know."

"She was here a moment ago," Connor elaborates. "She's gone now, though. Disappeared." 

Anderson blinks, and curses. "Shit. Okay. Okay, that might've been—" he drags a hand down his face. "We'll see what we can do. Let's just get you two home, alright?"

"Alright," they say in unison. 

Connor takes Nines's hand, as the car starts. His trembling hand, he realizes. _We'll be okay,_ his brother reassures. _Mr. Kamski will keep us safe._

 _Okay,_ comes from somewhere within him. _Okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c


	13. Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: ~1825
> 
> Thanks to Lunar / [Steampunk_Chicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steampunk_Chicken/pseuds/Steampunk_Chicken) for betaing! 
> 
> I daydreamed about this for hours one day and now I have plans up to the end of this fic >:D
> 
> Also, I made art of vampire Kamski!
> 
> It's posted on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Ausp_ice/status/1256712851198078977?s=20) and [Tumblr](https://ausp-ice.tumblr.com/post/618030812638625792/day-23-moonlight-vampire-kamski-from-my-fic).

On the way back, still with one hand in his brother's, Connor calls Kamski. 

He picks up within seconds of dialing. _"Connor. Hello."_

"Hello, Mr. Kamski," Connor echoes, garnering a glance from Reed and one from Anderson in the rearview mirror. 

_"Is everything alright?"_

"It's possible that we are going to be targeted by a demon. Me and Nines."

A few seconds of silence. _"Oh?"_

"Weisenfeld… seemed to have undergone a ritual to summon a demon," Nines says tightly. He'd leaned in, close enough for the phone to pick up his voice—though not too closely, since he didn't really have to worry about hearing it—he could get the knowledge from Connor. "Based on the circumstances, we can only suspect that her deal is intended to exact revenge on Connor, myself, or both of us."

"Yeah, and we, uh. Saw someone outside the building that probably shouldn't have been there. Lieutenant Anderson's reaction suggests that she might've been the demon."

_"I see. Are you on the way home?"_

Connor hums in confirmation. "Yes. The lieutenant is driving us back." 

_"Good. Remain there until I return—I expect to be back within the next two days. No demon should be able to break the defenses that quickly, at least."_

"Oh. Okay."

"Mr. Kamski." Nines speaks, suddenly. "How difficult would it be to defend us from a demon?"

A sigh comes through the other end. _"Short term? Not terribly difficult. But demons are known to be particularly relentless in fulfilling their promises. Unless we find a way to void the agreement, things may become… troublesome."_

Connor shifts in his seat. "How would you void the deal?"

_"If either party violates the terms, if the binding is forcefully severed, if both parties agree to end it, or if, in the case of a 'down payment,' what was given is returned. Or if the contract becomes impossible to fulfill. Typically."_

"Her body was empty," Nines says frankly. "Her soul was likely taken."

A pause. _"That is unfortunate. We'll discuss options when I return, then."_

"Okay," Connor says. "See you, Mr. Kamski."

_"Farewell for now, Connor, Nines."_ A click, and the call ends. 

Connor turns his attention to his brother. Nines is still sitting stiffly, hand firmly locked around Connor's. 

_We aren't safe,_ Nines's mental voice informs him. _Even Mr. Kamski seemed to be at a loss._

_It'll… it'll be okay._ He has to believe that. He has to. 

Nines's gaze flicks to Connor, then, and he reaches over to pull Connor's head under his chin. 

"What did he say?" Anderson asks. 

"We're going to stay home and then talk about our options when Mr. Kamski gets back," Connor answers. "After that, I guess we'll see." 

Reed clicks his tongue. "Fucking demons…" 

"They're not _bad,"_ Nines interjects. "They simply operate on different morals."

"Yeah, and those 'morals,' along with their stupid overpowered abilities, can make the lives of a lot of us really difficult, so: my point stands." 

Nines hums, gaze falling. "I suppose."

They arrive home not too long after that. The policemen walk them to the door, which opens as they draw near. Connor wonders if it's magic or technology. 

_Magic, mostly,_ Nines answers him. _It recognizes our signatures, I believe._

Cool. 

"You two take care, yeah?" Anderson faces them as Connor turns around, readying to close the door. "And hey, uh. You can call me if you run into trouble," he reaches into a pocket to pull out a card, inscribed with **HANK ANDERSON** and a phone number. 

"Okay." Connor takes the card. "Thank you, Lieutenant." 

Anderson sniffs and gives a nod, backing up a bit. "Later," he mumbles. 

"Later," Connor echoes. Reed gives them a nod from where he's standing a ways off, arms crossed, and without further ado, Connor eases the door shut. 

"We should tell Chloe," Nines mutters. 

"Yeah…" 

They wander the house, looking for her. In all honesty, the place is _huge._ He's pretty sure the outside doesn't match the inside, either. 

"Spatial expansion, most likely," Nines tells him. 

"Huh. I wonder what Mr. Kamski needs all this space for, though."

Nines shrugs. "I understand the aesthetic appeal for spaciousness."

_"This_ much spaciousness?"

"... Point."

They pause, though, in front of a large painting in the center of a long hallway. A severe-looking woman with dark skin and dark hair braided back in a low bun, wearing gray-and blue robes. Her eyes shine with a faint gold, and they are clearly slitted. 

_In honor of Amanda Stern,_ the plaque states. _Born May 14, 1478. Turned April 18, 1526. Died February 23, 2018._

"She looks like…" 

"Whoever we saw back at the scene…" Nines finishes for him. 

"How?"

"Demons can take many forms… If what we saw _was_ one, perhaps…" Nines hums. "But why hers? Who is she?"

Chloe is the one to answer them. They find her sitting in a large, white, empty room, meditating. She sits in a lotus position on a raised platform surrounded by water, unbreathing. 

Rather than disturb her, Connor and Nines sit at the edge of the room. _Hopefully she finishes soon,_ Connor projects to Nines. _Considering that she could technically stay like that until she needed more blood._

As it turns out, they don't have to wait for long. After about half an hour, Chloe smoothly opens her eyes and smiles at them. "Welcome back, Connor, Nines. How was your trip?"

Connor exchanges a glance with Nines, before turning back to Chloe. "We need to tell you a few things."

They move to one of the living rooms, sitting on the plush sofas. Chloe's eyes widen, then, when they inform her that they might be targeted by a demon. "Mr. Kamski told us we'd be safe here until he gets back, at least."

"Yes…" Chloe murmurs. "You should be. The defenses here are powerful."

"We also wanted to ask," Nines straightens, "Who is Amanda Stern?"

Chloe blinks, surprised. And then she smiles sadly. "She was Elijah's sire and mentor. I don't know much about her, unfortunately—I met Elijah after she died—but I know the two of them were close before her passing. Why?"

"We saw a painting of her in the halls," Connor answers. "And…"

"We saw someone at the place we found Weisenfeld who strongly resembled her," Nines adds. "Given the context, it's highly likely that she is the demon Weisenfeld summoned." 

"Oh." Chloe looks down to where her hands are crossed on her lap. "That's… not actually too surprising. Amanda was Weisenfeld's sire, as well, and a number of demons prefer taking familiar forms." 

Connor wonders what it'd be like to summon a demon and see the face of your dead mentor. He doesn't think he wants to experience that. 

_Nor I,_ Nines agrees. 

"Elijah has experience with demons," Chloe reassures, smiling through her worry. "He'll do all he can to keep the two of you safe, okay?"

"Okay," both of them mumble. "Thank you," Connor adds. 

Chloe grabs the both of them and pulls them into a hug. Neither of them were expecting it, so both of them freeze. "Everything will be alright."

Nines really needed this, Connor thinks. His brother squeezes them both tightly for a moment, before letting Chloe pull away. 

"Get some rest, you two. Elijah will be back before you know it."

"... Alright." Nines takes Connor's hand. _I wonder if I could shadow-step us to our room…_

Connor snorts. _Knowing you? Probably._

His brother huffs amusedly, and then they fall into shadow. It's not as stable as Kamski's, Connor can tell—but it seems to accomplish its purpose. The disorienting nothingness soon gives way to open air and they fall onto their bed in a tangle of limbs. 

"Connor," he hears, muffled. "Off." 

Oops. Connor rolls away, giving Nines the chance to unstick his face from the mattress. "That could have gone better," his brother grumbles.

"It pretty much worked, though? I mean, we're here." 

Nines pouts. Very slightly. "The execution…" 

Connor stifles a snort. "I'm sure you'll get better over time! Mr. Kamski seems to be all about the presentation and theatrics of sorcery, too." He always stayed calm and poised and did all those dramatic movements, after all. Connor's pretty sure he can cast spells without lifting a finger. 

"Hmph." Nines answers by tugging Connor to lie down with him. "Are you thirsty?"

… He's never _not,_ these days, but, "I drank from you two days ago and had a bit today, it's okay." 

There's a pause. "Hmmh," Nines hums absently, eyes darting away from him. 

Connor feels an inkling of a suspicion. "... Nines?"

"Yes?"

"Do you… _want_ me to bite you?" 

Nines doesn't answer for a few seconds, but the… _abashed_ feeling ringing across their connection is hard to hide. "It feels nice," he mumbles. "Not just the biting—the…our minds… I don't have to think about anything else…" 

"I get it," Connor says. "I get it." And he leans in to sink his fangs into Nines's neck. His brother exhales shakily, hands clutching at Connor's back for a moment before going completely slack, as the taste of _Nines_ pools in Connor's mouth. 

Connor lets himself sink into _them,_ into their blending, intertwining thoughts and feelings. He can feel Nines's stress and fear, he can feel their mirrored worry for one another. They let themselves drink in it, and—let it fall away. They let _everything_ fall away, until they are just— _them._

Only for a bit, though. Connor forces himself to pry away his fangs and lick the wound until it closes, Nines giving a soft hum as he does so. Connor indulges in his brother's warmth for a bit, in the hum of their renewed connection, until he sighs and gives Nines a nudge. "We need to change. And clean up and stuff."

"Mghhhh." Is all he gets.

"C'mon, Nines." 

_Don't want to move,_ Nines answers him mentally. 

"Don't make me drag you out of bed."

_So demanding, big brother. You're only a few seconds older._

Connor laughs breathily. Nines barely ever calls him big brother—it's funny, since _he's_ the taller one. 

… He wonders if people can get high on vampire venom and psychic bonds. Hmm.

In any case. Connor _does_ make good on his promise, using his vampiric strength to hoist Nines out of bed and onto himself. 

"Hey," Nines protests weakly, limbs flailing half-heartedly. "Put me back." 

"Put on your PJs, then."

"... Fine." 

They manage to get through their evening routine, Nines looking half dazed and half sour-faced the whole time. As soon as they get back in bed, his brother wraps all his limbs around Connor.

Not that Connor can talk. He does the same. 

_Love you, Connor,_ comes into his mind. _Don't wanna see you hurt._

Connor thinks his brother really might be high. He doesn't say that a lot, either—they both know it, after all. _I know, I know… me too. Love you too, Nines._

They fall asleep in the comfort of each other's minds. 


	14. Contingencies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: ~1600

They feel aimless, while waiting for Kamski to return. They practice their magic a bit. Connor helps Nines with his nails again. Connor starts helping Chloe with the garden, and Nines draws nearby, sitting on a rock, while they're at it. 

They get antsy enough to explore the house together, at some point. They find a swimming pool, a couple of living rooms. Lots of mostly empty rooms and halls. 

They pass by the painting of Amanda Stern a few times. "I wonder what she's like," Connor says, one time. "She'd be my great-grandsire…"

Nines puts a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We can ask Mr. Kamski when he returns."

"Sounds good…"

They find a spiral staircase, lit by the light coming through its completely glass enclosure. It goes both up and down—they go up, first, and find more empty rooms. And then they go down, entering a long hall with windows giving them a view under the surface of the river. There are a number of doors that seem to be locked. "Maybe they're his labs?" Connor suggests. 

"Ah. Very likely." 

Connor doesn't drink from him the first day after, but he does the second day. Nines makes sure to take the pills this time, since he suspects the feedings are more frequent than they should be. 

Finally, though, on the morning of the third day, Kamski returns. Nines is eating breakfast—french toast, a tag-team effort with Connor and Chloe—when black smoke curls out of thin air and coalesces into one Elijah Kamski. 

"Hello, Mr. Kamski," Nines and Connor say in unison. 

Kamski raises an eyebrow. "Hello, Connor, Nines, Chloe. How are you?"

"Alright, Elijah." "We're fine." "We are managing."

"Hmm. I see." Kamski holds a hand to his chin. "Well. Once you're done, the two of you can meet me in the living room right outside. We have plenty to discuss." 

Nines finishes his food quickly after that, and they join Kamski where he sits, eyes closed, on one of the couches. 

"So." Kamski opens his eyes, smiling in that absent way of his. "Where would you like to start?"

Despite the situation, Nines can't help his curiosity. "Did you find Flamel?"

Kamski's smile widens to show his teeth. "Yes, Nines, I did."

"And…?" Nines prods.

Their mentor laughs through his nose. "And what?"

Ugh. Nines sighs, fixing the vampire with a deadpan look. "Did he agree to help create an elixir?"

"Well." Kamski looks down, and then back up at them. "Yes, he did agree to help."

_ I sense a but, there,  _ Connor informs Nines. 

_ As do I.  _ "But?"

"But he wants us to crack the recipe and create the concoction ourselves," Kamski answers dryly, pulling a thick book out of the shadows and letting it drop heavily to the glass coffee table. "That is to say, he has agreed to transmute it into a proper Elixir of Life, but only if we, hm, do the legwork."

Nines pulls the book towards him.  _ Life Alchemy, translated and annotated by Nicolas Flamel.  _ His eyes widen. "This…" 

"Yes. A very generous offer, truly. This is a replica I created, but it is indeed Flamel's own work. Additionally, in allowing us to construct the recipe ourselves, we can make alterations to suit your needs." Kamski leans back. "In a way, that may bring us to the topic of the demon. If we make you unkillable, it is possible that the demon's contract can be voided." He pauses. "I wouldn't count on it, however. There are ways to kill you even if your body is eternal." 

Nines thumbs through the pages, Connor laying his head on Nines's shoulder to look as well. There are symbols, diagrams, illustrations. Passages to describe one theory or another. 

"What can we do, then?" Connor asks, when it becomes clear that Nines isn't going to.

Their mentor sighs. "Since Samantha's soul was taken, the contact cannot be broken by mutual agreement. And destroying her body may not be effective either, if the payment has already been made. As of now, the best option is for you two to stay here until you can defend yourselves from a threat of that level."

Nines closes the book, looking at Kamski. "And how long would that take?"

Kamski meets his eyes. "Years, most likely."

"You're saying we should be stuck inside here for  _ years?"  _ Connor squeezes Nines's arm. "That's…"

"It's the safest option. We don't know when, where, or how the demon will strike." Kamski clasps his hands together. "I will continue educating both of you, in addition to assisting with developing Nines's Elixir. Since Flamel has been so kind as to offer his insights, I don't think it will take long to crack the theory."

In all honesty, Nines wouldn't mind. The house is spacious, and he has everything he needs here. Connor, though… His brother has always enjoyed going out. The fresh air, the openness, the change of scenery. 

Nines grabs Connor's hand, squeezing it, and Connor returns the gesture. "If you were to accompany us, would we be able to leave sometimes?"

"Hmm. I suppose so," Kamski shrugs, "So long as we get through basic combat and healing magic first. I can hold off a high-class demon for a short time, but it is no simple matter."

Nines grits his teeth. This is incredibly… inconvenient. Unfortunate. Frustrating. 

_ It's fine, Nines, I'll be fine… I have you.  _

Nines closes his eyes for a moment, breathing out through his nose. "Will we have to live with the threat of this for… for as long as we live?"  _ Forever,  _ he doesn't say. 

"I don't know," Kamski says, gaze flicking down. "It's possible." 

The thought is suffocating. Why? Why  _ them?  _ Connor was just unlucky. It's Weisenfeld's fault that her progeny ran off, and she didn't even take responsibility. 

"Don't worry too much about it yet," Kamski smiles tightly. "Perhaps the agreement was not anything too bad." 

Connor snorts. "You believe that?"

"... No, I suppose I don't. Samantha's always been rather petty."

They sit in silence for a few moments. "The person we saw just outside the crime scene," Connor starts, "the person who was probably a demon? She looked just like Amanda Stern."

Kamski stiffens. "Ah," he says, strained. "I suppose that's not very surprising."

"Chloe said the same." Nines tilts his head. "She said the two of you were close." 

"We were," Kamski confirms. 

Connor straightens, fiddling with the edge of Nines's sleeve. "What was she like?"

"Mm." Their mentor turns to look outside the window, putting an arm on the back of the sofa. "She was… strict. Not unkind. She encouraged me to reach the limits of my potential." He closes his eyes. "She was there for my best and worst. I can only hope to match her in my quality of mentorship."

"Despite your personality, your methods are very effective." Nines says dryly. "I doubt that we, personally, could have a better mentor."

The look Kamski gives him, at that, is the most surprised Nines has ever seen him. Really, it was only a slight widening of his eyes and parting of his lips, but even so. "I do believe that is the most genuine backhanded compliment anyone has ever given me."

"I agree with Nines," Connor adds. "Not that I know much about proper sorcery education, but I feel like your methods might be unconventional. And, well, they work." 

Kamski snorts. "An education system, when followed doggedly, is only a lack of effort to cater a student's unique learning needs. There  _ are _ suggested guidelines for educating vampires and advents, but I find it better to carve out a path that will not staunch your potential." 

"I see." 

"Is there anything else you wish to discuss at the moment?" Kamski turns towards them again. "If not, I'll leave you two be for a bit. Nines, I would suggest reading through that book first, and then I can assist in constructing a formula with you."

Nines nods. Though… 

Connor straightens. "There's one more thing we wanted to ask."

"Oh?"

"Are you Detective Reed's half-brother?"

Kamski stares at them for a moment, expressionless. And then he sighs, closing his eyes and lifting his eyebrows. "I should have known it wouldn't get past you two."

"You are immortal, but as far as I can tell, he is not." Nines tilts his head. "And you are a sorcerer, while he is not. To the extent of our knowledge, he is completely mundane, while you are—or were—steeped in magical society. How did that happen?" 

Kamski slouches further back on the couch. "Nosy, aren't you?"

"He's our kin now, isn't he?" Connor counters. "In a way. If I'm your kin, Nines is mine, and Gavin is yours. Is it wrong to want to know about our new extended family?"

Nines's mind stalls for a moment at that. He hadn't really made such a connection. For him, Connor has long been the only family he had or needed, but now…?

Kamski gives another sigh. "That is true." He tilts his head back on the couch, opening his eyes to look at the ceiling. "I can tell you another day. But not now." 

He looks  _ tired, _ suddenly, and Nines is now even more curious, and simultaneously hesitant. 

Both Connor and Nines decide not to press him further. "C'mon, Nines." Connor stands, pulling Nines up with him. "Wanna go read your new book?" 

Ah, right. "Yes." 

"Neat." Connor gives Kamski a wave. "See you later, Mr. Kamski," he says, which Nines echoes.

Their mentor chuckles. "See you two later."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that feel when you gotta be Quarantined because a demon might be after your life


	15. Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 2065
> 
> Many thanks to [Ronnie Silverlake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonnieSilverlake/pseuds/RonnieSilverlake) for betaing!

Despite the fact that Nines typically consumes books like some kind of information-hungry computer, it takes a while for him to go through  _ Life Alchemy _ . Connor reads it over Nines's shoulder sometimes, but most of it takes a while for him to parse. "Despite the notes Flamel has included," Nines comments, "some of the concepts remain incredibly arcane."

Throughout the week, Kamski guides them in their training, meeting them in the atrium. "Normally, we'd take longer to get to combat, but, well. The circumstances as they are…" He chuckles dryly.

The first thing he teaches them is healing, interestingly enough. "Is it so surprising? It is better to know how to recover before you start the more… dangerous lessons." He turns to Connor. "You have the advantage here, Connor—blood magic is a preferred medium for healing organic subjects. Water, nature, and holy magic are known for healing spells as well, and any elemental can be healed with magic of its own affinity."

"Neat," Connor says. 

They start with Kamski slicing a gash down his forearm. Connor winces at it, and he feels the echo in Nines, mentally, but their mentor only snorts. "Oh, please. This is nothing. Wait until we get to limb reattachment. Just for Connor, of course. Reattaching Nines's limbs would take some advanced medical spells, haha!"

Connor's not sure how he feels about that. Nines seems morbidly amused.

Wait, is it going to be practical training? Is  _ Connor  _ going to have to lose a limb? Temporarily. 

"Relax, Connor. It's not as bad as you might think. I'll show you how to do it first, too. Later." 

That's reassuring. 

"Now, pay attention to the weave of my magic." 

Connor's been getting better at sensing, and he watches as Kamski's magic truly  _ weaves  _ through the wound. "Your body will naturally gravitate towards its homeostatic state. You are simply guiding and accelerating the process." 

Makes sense. 

As Kamski suggests, healing comes a lot more easily to him than Nines. Kamski has the two of them try healing themselves, each other, and him. Connor heals all of them faster, though both he and Nines manage to fully heal the cuts they make on their forearms. Nines finds it very difficult to heal Kamski, though—he seems a little tired by the action, and it takes him a few minutes to finish. 

(Connor tries not to stare too much at his brother's blood during the process. He almost regrets there's no extra blood for him to lick after the magical healing.) 

"Well," Kamski says. "I'm confident the two of you can take care of yourselves and each other, if it comes down to it." 

Before long, they move onto combat. Kamski has them sit in the center of the atrium as he speaks. "The two of you have mostly been working with basic manifestations and manipulations so far. In a sense, combat magic simply refines those principles to suit a certain purpose. It is an art, in a sense, given the freedom of possibilities you have." He forms shadows in his hands: a small blade in one hand, and a fog of smoke in the other. "Generally speaking, elemental combat magic falls into two categories: physical and field-effect. There are many nuances with different affinities, but spells of these two categories are most common in combat."

He disperses the smoke in one hand, and flicks his other wrist. The solid shadow transforms into a long blade. "Physical magic is fairly straightforward. You simply manifest your magic into a physical form to attack. Different affinities have different effects—for instance, I could harm someone via their shadow with this, among other things. Fire will burn, ice will be cold. Some elements are more suited for physical attacks, such as earth, water, ice. Elements with a physical basis."

Kamski waves his hand, and the blade vanishes. "The other category is that of field-effect spells. These are often very particular to an affinity. Plunging this area into darkness. Blinding your opponents with light. Setting things on fire. Freezing an area. Calling lightning from the sky. Manipulating someone's blood from inside them." He pauses. "That one is difficult. Few are able to master it."

They start with Nines. It quickly becomes clear that his brother prefers spells of the field-effect type—he finds it easier to freeze targets at a distance than get up close and personal with anything. They find out that last bit when Kamski hums, observing the frozen clusters—and then he's suddenly in front of Nines, swiping at him with a blade of shadow. 

Nines stumbles back, barely managing to intercept with a half-formed construct of ice and dark smoke. Before Connor can do more than stand in alarm, Kamski grabs Nines's arm, keeping him from falling over. "I expect distance spells to be your strong suit. Spells you can think about in advance. Prepare for."

"Hmmh," Nines sounds in acknowledgement as Kamski pulls him up. "Connor has always been better at thinking on his feet."

"Has he, now?"

Connor isn't sure he likes the sound of that. 

His unease turns out to be well-founded. As soon as they get through some basic spells of each type, Kamski looks at him. Tilts his head. And then rushes him.

Connor probably has an advantage over Nines, given that he kind of expected it. A brilliant blade of yellow heat and light comes out of his arm in an instant, reaching to meet the dark mass arcing towards him. Instead of the clash he expected, though, his magic melts clean through Kamski's, dispersing it into black smoke. The smoke falls to the ground, merging with the shadows, and Connor instinctively manifests a layer of light to insulate him from—the spikes that suddenly shoot out of the darkness, dispersing as soon as they make contact with the shield. 

Then he feels a cool touch at his neck, sharp and dangerous, and he immediately freezes. "Well done, Connor. It seems your brother was correct in his assessment of you," Kamski says. "The two of you complement each other well. One might say unnaturally well, ha." 

The touch goes away, and Connor turns around to see a shadow receding into Kamski's arm. "The fact that your affinity has the advantage over mine certainly makes things interesting." 

He feels a mental nudge from Nines, then, and turns to see his brother frowning from where he's sitting on the side.  _ Nines?  _

_ You're unhurt?  _

_ I'm fine, you don't have to worry. _

"Twin telepathy, I presume?" Connor turns towards Kamski, blinking. 

"Huh? Yeah, Nines asked if I was unhurt." 

Kamski nods. "I see. When we get to more advanced spells, you may be unable to avoid injury. I will not harm the two of you deliberately, but still."

Nines gives a displeased hum at that. Connor's pretty sure his brother isn't even worried about himself—just Connor.  _ We'll be fine, Nines.  _

_ Yes… logically, I realize Mr. Kamski will not deliberately harm us, but even so…  _

They continue through more advanced spells as the days pass, and, as expected, both Connor and Nines start finding themselves with more and more injuries. Nines insists on healing Connor, and Connor always heals Nines. 

While neither of them are pleased with seeing each other hurt, they have to admit that they  _ are  _ improving. 

Connor starts feeding from Nines every night. Neither of them even ask. Both of them just—gravitate towards each other, even more on the days they're injured. They have a  _ need,  _ almost, for that closeness. 

It feels like they're hurtling into each other, and Connor's not sure if he should try to stop it. He knows, at least, that he doesn't want to. 

One evening, while they're at their desks—Nines is reading and Connor is going through the study materials he convinced Josh to send him—the doorbell rings through the house. Nines blinks, looking up from his book, and Connor from his tablet.

"Who do you think it is?" Connor asks. Maybe Anderson and Reed?

Nines sets his book aside. "Shall we find out?" 

"Sure," and then Nines takes his hand, pulling them into darkness. 

They're wrenched out of it rather suddenly—intercepted—and the two of them stumble into the lobby. "You two,  _ stay back."  _ Kamski. He's never sounded so… angry? No, that doesn't seem right. Forceful?

He has a hand around Nines's bicep and fingers on Connor's chest. He uses that leverage to shove the two of them back. 

"Elijah," a voice floats distantly from the door open to the outside, while they're stumbling back, "Come now, won't you let me see my kin?"

Connor blinks. Who…?

_ "Shut up!"  _ their mentor snaps, letting them go and turning to address whoever's outside. "Don't you dare act like you're her! Don't you dare use her face, her voice, her memory!"

Both Connor and Nines can't help but flinch at the tone, despite the fact that it's not directed at them. They've never been good at dealing with… that sort of thing, even after so long, and the anxiety echoes across both of them. 

"I taught you better than that. Than to let your emotions get the better of you."

Kamski takes a deep breath. "Leave, demon. You cannot enter this place." 

Connor can see through the gap in the door, and he can't help his curiosity. He leans over, and the angle allows him to see— _ her.  _ The person at the scene. Or rather, the demon? She's probably ten or so feet from the door, a lot farther than he expected. She doesn't have the parasol this time, and he can see her face, now. The spitting image of Amanda Stern, a glint of crimson in her pupils—starkly visible in the muted evening light. 

She meets his eyes, and smiles. Connor feels a shiver run down his spine, and Nines puts a comforting hand on the back of his neck. "Of course, Elijah. I will leave you be, then." 

And in a blink, she's gone. 

Kamski hisses out a breath, hand clenched tightly around the door. 

"Mr. Kamski?" Connor asks, voice small. 

Their mentor stiffens, immediately turning around. Connor can't read his expression, but it's clear how much he's clenching his jaw. As soon as he sees them, though, he falters, and he seems to deliberately reassert his calm demeanor, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. "My apologies. I did not mean for you to see that." He gently closes the door. Connor can see his hand shaking just slightly. "I was not prepared for the demon to have her memories, as well." 

Connor hums, shifting his feet. "Are you… okay?" 

Kamski looks surprised by the question. "I will be fine." He sighs. "I will answer the door in the future. If it requires either of you, I will call you. Until then, do not come here. She shouldn't be able to step foot in the actual premises, but I don't wish for the two of you to be exposed to her presence if we can avoid it."

"Okay," Connor says, at the same time Nines nods. 

Kamski sighs again, drawing a hand down his face. "The two of you wish to know about Amanda, yes?" 

Connor blinks at the turn of conversation. "We do, but…"

"If it troubles you, there's no need," Nines says quietly. Still subdued. Connor squeezes his brother's arm. 

Kamski shakes his head. "You deserve to know who she truly was. Not…  _ that _ ," he bites out. "I will tell you about her tomorrow. Her, and the rest of your kin," he smiles wryly, before he reaches for Nines's shoulder. Nines tenses, just slightly, and Kamski must notice because something flickers in his eyes, and he draws back. "You two should go rest." 

"Okay," they both answer. Nines grabs Connor's arm and takes them into shadow, stepping out into their room. 

Before long, they're clean and in bed, wrapped around each other. "You okay, Nines?" Connor asks, running his fingers through the soft hairs at the back of his brother's neck.

Nines shrugs, hands shifting from where they're loosely curled around his waist.  _ No better than you.  _ The thread of anxiety between them is answer enough. 

"Can I…"

"Yes."

Nines's anxiety melts away as soon as he bites, and he can feel his own ebbing away as well. He wonders if they shouldn't rely on this so much. But it works, and it doesn't hurt them, does it? 

They sleep soundly after that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Kamski's Tragic Backstory


	16. Reminiscence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories of the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've unlocked Kamski's Tragic Backstory
> 
> Beta'd by [Ronnie Silverlake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonnieSilverlake/pseuds/RonnieSilverlake) and Lunar / [Steampunk_Chicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steampunk_Chicken/pseuds/Steampunk_Chicken), thank you!

When they wake up, they go through their usual routine. Clean up, get dressed, idle around for a bit until they amble to the kitchen and find Chloe having "just arrived" with impeccable timing. 

"You always seem to know when we're coming," Nines comments dryly. 

Chloe just laughs. 

Nines sighs and takes a seat at the table, letting  _ Life Alchemy  _ fall onto the surface with a noticeable thud. He cracks it open to where he left off, while Connor excitedly asks Chloe if they can try a recipe he found online the other day—Nines has more often than not found himself the test subject for Connor's new interest in culinary ventures. 

Not that he's complaining. Both Connor and Chloe are very good at cooking, and enjoy the activity as well. Nines has attempted to assist before, but he didn't feel that he particularly helped all that much. Besides, he'd rather spend the time reading or doing something otherwise productive. As he is currently. 

He's almost finished with  _ Life Alchemy  _ now, after about a week of reading through it. The theory is rather dense, but Nines supposes he expected as much. Already, he has been formulating possible reagents for an Elixir. The riddled language has been rather troublesome to interpret, though. The "essence of unearthly nature" could possibly be faery dust… He suspects he might need dragon's blood, as well. Flamel had theorized a number of substances that might match various descriptions in the book; Nines surmises that so long as the materials capture all the necessary properties, any could be used—the Elixir, then, could be formulated an infinite number of ways.

"Nines?" 

"Hmmm?" He hums, not looking up.

"C'mon, food's ready."

Nines looks up, seeing a plate of breakfast potatoes next to him, just set down by Connor. Chloe's by the sinks, cleaning the dishes, though it looks like she's almost done. "Oh." Nines blinks, sliding the book away to bring the plate closer. "Thank you." 

Chloe joins them as Nines starts to eat. "Elijah is waiting for the two of you in the living room just outside here. Once you're done, he'll tell you about Amanda. Among other things."

"What about you?" Connor asks. "Did he ever tell you about her?"

She smiles sadly. "He did. A year or so after he turned me." She looks down to her hands, where one curls around the fist of the other. "It still troubles him. I see him, sometimes, with that look in his eyes…" She closes her eyes, and after a moment, smiles at them again. "Less often since the two of you came, though. I think you've been very good for him."

Nines blinks, exchanging a look with Connor. 

_ There's a lot we don't know about him,  _ Connor notes. 

_ Indeed… Perhaps that will change today.  _ Nines turns back to Chloe. "Will you join us, then?" 

Chloe shakes her head. "I will be nearby. Elijah wishes to tell you on his own."

Nines nods, and finishes his food in silence. He and Connor bid their farewells to Chloe, who smiles at them cheerily and waves, before they move to the living room. 

Kamski is sitting on the sofa, a steaming cup in his hands, a Japanese tea set on the coffee table. He's wearing one of his Japanese-style robes, navy blue in color. His hair is down as well, the lengthy strands cascading over his shoulders. He gestures to the other two cups on the table—already filled.

"Vampires can drink tea?" Connor asks.

Kamski nods. "We can drink light fluids, remember? Including water and tea. Not too much at once, however." He runs a finger across the rim of his cup. "I find it… pleasant to indulge in, sometimes." 

A comfort food, perhaps?

Nines takes a cup by the top rim, careful not to burn himself. Connor has no such reservations, grabbing a cup by the body. 

"That's so weird," Connor mumbles, bringing it to his lips. "I can feel that it's hot enough to burn, but it's not uncomfortable at all." 

"The warmth can be nice to feel, for vampires." Kamski nods, before gesturing to the sofa. "Please, have a seat." 

They obey, Connor and Nines sitting on the sofa opposite to Kamski—the table between them. Kamski sips at his tea. Connor glances at him, and Nines, and then does the same.  _ Oh. That's pretty nice.  _

Nines raises an eyebrow.  _ Is it?  _ He looks to his cup, still steaming hot, before forming a few shards of ice to drop inside. After a moment of letting them melt, he lifts the cup to his lips, sipping cautiously. 

It is, in fact, quite good. It seems to be some variety of green tea. It reminds him of seaweed, not unpleasantly.

He looks back up to see Kamski watching him, expression as placid as ever. "Will you tell us about Amanda Stern, Mr. Kamski?" he asks.

The vampire blinks, and then sighs, placing his cup on the table. "Yes… yes, I suppose I will." He leans back, looking out the window. "I suppose I'll start with me," he murmurs, tucking his arms into his sleeves. He looks back towards them. "I was born in 1979 to a family of decently average sorcerers." 

Nines calculates that in his head. Connor beats him to a response, though: "You're only 59?"

Their mentor chuckles. "Yes." He looks off to the side again. "At that time, magical conflicts and feuds were not uncommon. Unfortunately, there were a number of others who… shall I say, had a bone to pick with us because of something my great-grandfather did, or something of that sort. My mother died in 1988 due to such a conflict." 

Connor stiffens, and Nines frowns, setting his tea down on the table. Kamski notices their reaction, waving a hand. "Don't be concerned. That wound is… old." 

"But does it still hurt?" Nines asks softly. 

Kamski doesn't answer for a moment. "On occasion. But we haven't even gotten to the best part yet," he laughs. Nines thinks it sounds pained. 

"In any case," he continues, "My father met someone else. She was very fierce, and certainly wouldn't take anyone's shit." 

Connor snorts, surprising both himself and Nines. "Sorry," he says, holding a hand over his mouth.

Kamski shakes his head, an amused tilt to his mouth. "Worry not. In any case. The catch here is that she was mundane." 

"Ah," Nines sounds. He has a feeling he knows where this is going. 

Kamski looks at him, and smiles wryly. "In 2002, they had a child. My half-brother. He was noisy, uncontrollable, messy… and completely mundane." 

"Gavin Reed," Nines says.

"Correct." Kamski reaches over to his tea to take another sip, before cradling it in his hands. "I was in my twenties, then, well on my way to completing my sorcerous studies. I did not expect to have to make room for another member of my family. I did not expect that I  _ would."  _ He scoffs. "The menace grew on me. Unfortunately, I became attached." 

Nines can't help the amused exhale that escapes him, despite the growing unease that he can feel in both himself and Connor. "And then?" Connor asks.

Kamski sighs. "Our options were… not ideal. We could either take him into the fold of magical society, where he would be shunned, or hide our nature from him." His grip tightens on the cup, but he seems to realize it quickly, setting it back on the table. "There was already disapproval of the union between my father and stepmother, and lingering resentment…" He sighs. "We had a few years of that uneasy happiness. And then…" He trails off.

Connor grabs Nines's hand, squeezing it. "Then?" 

"A demon was contracted to kill my family." 

Ice floods into Nines's veins.

"My parents tried to fight it. They didn't last long. And then it turned toward Gavin, and I…" Kamski's eyes fall shut. "I was fatally wounded. The demon stabbed me in the heart, as I leapt forward to defend him, and at that moment, I awakened to the true potential of my magic." He presses a hand over his heart, rubbing it absently. "It was lucky, truly. Awakenings, advent or not, cause a release of magic capable of untold destruction—in my case, it was sufficient to banish the demon back to its realm." He opens his eyes again, staring at the table. Or perhaps staring at something else. "I lay there, then, my new power doing its best to sustain my life as long as possible. Death was coming for me, but I was eased in the knowledge that at least Gavin would live." 

Kamski gives a soft exhale. "It was then that Amanda found me. She was a very powerful vampire in her time, and held a number of responsibilities to maintain the order of society. She had tracked the demon to the mundane city we were in, but was unable to pinpoint its location until my awakening set off everyone and everything capable of detecting magic in the area." He huffs. "She saw me lying there, bleeding everywhere, Gavin bawling his eyes out, my parents dead. She kneeled by me, blood staining her fancy robes, and asked me if I wanted to live, even if it meant dying. If it meant becoming a vampire. I looked at Gavin. Looked at her. I couldn't speak anymore, I could barely feel anything anymore, but—I nodded."

He rubs his thumb over his heart absently. "So she slit her wrist and I drank her blood. And then she bit into my neck and drank the rest of mine." He drops his hand. "She put me into a healing coma for a day or so. By the time I woke up, I was in her home. Gavin was sent to mundane foster care." The laugh that escapes him is almost bitter. "I don't believe I was ever as ferocious as I was then, lashing out in my anger. I wanted to see him—logic had fled my mind at that moment."

Nines can understand that sentiment. 

"The sudden influx of vampire instincts and thirst certainly did not help," Kamski continues. "Amanda subdued me, and explained calmly that until I could control myself, I would not be permitted to interact with any humans, let alone Gavin. She promised that she'd keep an eye on him, at least, even if she couldn't personally take care of him." 

Kamski looks at Connor and Nines, at where they grip each other's hands tightly, and hums. "I threw myself into my vampiric education with what some might argue was reckless abandon. Amanda did not try to hold me back, and I was— _ am _ grateful for it. She encouraged me to grow, to reach my potential. In two years, I had surpassed her, mastering both my new magic and my vampirism.

"After that, I started to visit Gavin. It was always a risk. He didn't have any ability to defend himself, and he would only be pulled into the line of danger were anyone in magical society to become aware of our relation." Kamski sighs, and then chuckles fondly. "Amanda would accompany me in the visits… Gavin would always call her 'Aunty Manda.' She had introduced herself to him as his godmother—with my permission, of course. Gavin was already familiar with her by the time I was allowed to see him.

"Throughout the years, I am certain Gavin started to notice strange things about us. After all, we don't age. Our skin is ice-cold. I was always just 'Eli' to him, a mysterious friend of his mysterious godmother. But he never questioned us." Kamski laces his fingers together. "In the meantime, I had chosen to study magical society. Even then, I may have had a budding wish to change the way the world worked, ha. Frustrated with how difficult it was to spend time with my half-brother. With Amanda having a finger on the pulse of politics, she was an invaluable resource for my learning. But she was…" Kamski spreads his fingers in something almost like a prayer position, lifting his thumbs to his lips and his pointer fingers to his brow. "She was more than that. As the years passed, I wondered if—…" He closes his eyes. "I wondered if that was what having a mother should be like. I hardly knew my own, and was never very close to my stepmother." 

Nines grits his teeth, squeezing Connor's hand tightly. They already know how this is going to end. 

And, as expected: "It didn't last. In 2018, when Gavin was sixteen, he was attacked by the same demon that had come after us before. We were… lucky. That it did not kill him instantly. I later found out that it was a witch family's contracted demon."

_ Witches…? _

_ Magical individuals of powerful bloodlines, _ Nines informs his brother. Beings already beyond the definition of 'gifted humans.' Most, if not all, are naturally ageless beings—they stop aging as soon as they reach adulthood. 

They are known for their elaborate spellwork and rituals, secrets passed down through families. For a demon to have a bloodline contract is not uncommon—so long as the family can fulfill all of the demon's terms.

_ I see… _

Nines focuses back on Kamski. "We were associated with them in the past, but at that time, they resented our family. Even more so after 'tainting' it with mundane blood…" He exhales, sinking back. "Amanda was nearby when it happened, and she alerted me before going to the scene. By the time I arrived, she'd been stabbed in the heart, and was using the last of her energy to shield Gavin. I…" Kamski pauses. "I killed the demon. It was on the lower end of high-class demons—I would have failed if Amanda hadn't weakened it. 

"It was too late for Amanda. She died in my arms, while Gavin watched, frozen." Kamski turns his head up at the ceiling. "The way society was then, Gavin's only options were to erase his memories of the incident, or leave mundane society behind. And it was then that I decided: enough is enough. I sat him down and explained. That we are half-brothers. That I am a vampire and a sorcerer. That I was going to change everything.

"So I did," Kamski says, sweeping an arm towards the ceiling, before letting it fall back down. "But not before I destroyed the ones responsible for the death of so many members of my family. When I killed the demon, I released it from the witch family's contract. The sigil on its soul was shattered, but not before I could see it. I traced the family using that. I found Chloe there, actually," Kamski says almost offhandedly. "She was a sacrifice. She had no memory, no name, no power. I took her with me, intending to leave her with the authorities, but for whatever reason, she chose to stay."

"And then you engineered the reveal of magic to the world," Nines concludes. 

Kamski smiles. "That's right."

"What happened to Gavin afterwards?" Connor asks. "You did so much for him, but he's… distant."

At that, Kamski sighs. "Our lifestyles do not suit each other. I cannot live with him in mundane society, and when he attempted to live with me for some time…" He looks to the side. "He couldn't stand living here. He did his best. But it was… not good for him. Mentally." Kamski sighs again. "I visit. He visits. Our lives are… tangential." 

Connor shifts. "We haven't… gotten in the way of that, have we?" 

"I still visit him in the evening," Kamski waves his hand flippantly. "He keeps odd hours, do not be concerned."

Nines hums. "But you still spend very little time with him, no? When we were in the car with him, and we asked if he'd like to spend more time with his half-brother, he said 'that'd be nice.' The both of you are alive, and both of you desire to spend more time with each other, so why—"

"We are not compatible," Kamski snaps, and Nines can't help flinching back slightly. Their mentor blinks, narrowing his eyes slightly in something like confusion, curiosity, concern— 

"There must be some way," Connor insists, laying a hand on Nines's arm, sending a pulse of reassurance.  _ He's not mad. It's okay.  _ "Why should you stay apart if neither of you want to?"

Kamski gives them a searching look. "Sometimes," he says, "It is healthier for two people to maintain a certain distance, even if they want to be closer. How often have you been feeding?" 

"Huh?" Connor blinks at the sudden change in subject. "Um… Every night, pretty much?" He fidgets. "I sample from Nines at mealtimes sometimes, too…" 

Their mentor looks at Nines. "Who initiates it?"

"Both? Neither?" Connor exchanges a glance with Nines. "We just… it feels right." 

"I see." Kamski steeples his fingers together. "What do you think would happen if the two of you were separated for a few days? A week? A month?" 

Nines stiffens, meeting Kamski's eyes. Their mentor continues. "I understand that the two of you are very close. However, if any circumstances drive you apart, I worry about what effects it would have on you two. For the record, Connor, if you continued drinking other blood, I expect you would be able to last a month or two without any effects of magic poisoning. Psychologically, however…" Kamski sighs. "I am uncertain." 

"Are you," Nines starts haltingly, gripping Connor tightly, "going to separate us?" 

"Nines…" 

Kamski gives him a long look. "No," he finally says, and Nines feels an almost palpable relief surge through him. "But I want you to try not feeding for a week, at least. We'll see what to do from there."

"Oh," Connor says. "That's…" 

"If you need other blood, simply let me know. I am not asking you to starve. But I need to know what happens when the two of you aren't continuously tying yourselves tighter to each other every day."

It's a reasonable request. It's not like Nines hasn't considered that they might have been relying on each other more than is strictly normal—but they were  _ fine  _ being apart before. They're just… making the most of their time together. Maybe.

He simply has no desire to change their dynamic. He can't deny the impracticality of  _ needing  _ each other, though, so he sighs. "That is fair," he concedes. 

"You'll be okay?" Connor asks. 

"We'll find out," Nines answers dryly. "You?" 

"We'll find out," Connor echoes with a smirk, and Nines gives him an exasperated nudge with his elbow. Connor bends out of the way, turning to Kamski. "We'll do it. And, um." Connor fiddles with his sleeve. "Thank you for telling us about our family. I'm… um…" Connor grabs Nines's arm.  _ Should I ask? I don't know if I should ask. I don't know if he even likes it. _

_ You should ask. _

"Can I hug you?" Connor blurts. "You just, uh. If you want." 

Kamski gives Connor a bemused look. He opens his mouth, blinks a few times, and then shrugs. So Connor gets up, walking stiffly towards Kamski's side. Nines follows him shortly, sitting down next to Connor when his brother sits next to Kamski. 

_ It's alright, Connor,  _ Nines reassures him, _ It's only a hug.  _

Their mentor raises an eyebrow at Connor, as if asking what he's waiting for. Connor glances back at Nines. Nines makes a 'go on' gesture. Connor turns back to Kamski, and then carefully wraps his arms around their mentor's torso. 

Kamski watches him for a moment, before glancing up at Nines. Another moment, and he lets his gaze fall back down, slowly placing his hands on Connor's back. "Hmm," he hums softly. He looks back up at Nines. "Would you like to join?" He asks. 

Nines hesitates, but at a mental nudge from Connor, positions himself to wrap his arms around both his brother and his mentor. One of Kamski's hands lifts to lay on Nines's back, instead, and it's at this point that Nines notices the slight trembling in Kamski's frame. "Thank you for telling us," Nines echoes his brother's words. "It must have been… a lot."

The hand at his back presses him in a little more. "Yes… it was. It was."

They stay like that for a while. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love... hugs


	17. Sustainment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: ~3500
> 
> Beta'd by [Ronnie Silverlake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonnieSilverlake/pseuds/RonnieSilverlake) and Lunar / [Steampunk_Chicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steampunk_Chicken/pseuds/Steampunk_Chicken), thank you!

Nines and Kamski start working on the Elixir as soon as Nines finishes the book. 

'As soon as,' as in Nines finishing the book the morning after the Family Talk (as Connor has taken to calling it in his mind), closing it, and calling out, "Mr. Kamski?" and then rattling off a theoretical combination of ingredients the moment their mentor appears in their room. 

Kamski looks at Connor. "What?" Connor says in response, and their mentor only shakes his head.

"Alright, Nines. We can go down to the labs, and discuss this further. I may be able to procure some of the reagents you require."

Nines blinks. "Would those be the locked doors downstairs?" 

"Did some exploring, did you?" Kamski laughs through his nose. "Yes, some of them. I also have an enchanted library, but I've integrated it with technology so that I can read all of its contents via tablet. It is far too easy to become lost there." 

Nines hums. "I see."

"Can I come with?" Connor asks. "I kind of want to see what your labs are like. Plus," he shrugs, "if Nines is going to make immortal juice, I think it'd be cool to see how."

And that's how they end up downstairs, Kamski touching one of the doors to open it. Connor feels more than sees the magic pulse as it recognizes their mentor, and then slides away so they can enter. 

The space lights up as soon as they enter, and Connor is met with a room primarily consisting of clinical white. There is a central table with what Connor assumes is a screen with a hologram projector, and around them are benches strewn with various objects—chemical distillers, glass test tubes. Beyond that, rows of shelves line one of the sides of the room. The ceiling and one wall open up to an underwater view of the river. Connor thinks they're probably enchanted, considering that the layout would suggest that they're solidly in the earth at the moment. 

Come to think of it, the entire house already has spatial manipulation magic. Hmm. He's sure there's something at work here, in any case. 

"Working in an underground laboratory without windows can be incredibly boring," Kamski laughs, probably at the way he was staring at the windows. "If I'm going to make a space I'll be in for days at a time, I'm going to make it aesthetically pleasing."

Of course.

"Ah, and—don't touch anything without asking," Kamski tells them. "Some of the materials are not pleasant to make contact with." And then, "This way," as he leads them to the central table. He waves his hand over the screen, as they sit down on the stools around the table, and it immediately flickers to life. "Alright, Nines. You were saying?"

Nines nods. "Based on the text, it seems there are many possible reagents we could use to capture different properties. The 'unearthly essence' is likely faery dust—it would be necessary to bend some of the laws of natural biology. The 'crimson lifeblood of unvanquished fury' is likely the blood of a European dragon—known for its regenerative properties."

"Perhaps," Kamski says. "Though, consider the potency. The tears of fae are known to be so potent as to be able to bring back the recently dead, for instance, and dragon's blood is most effective if from the heart."

Nines frowns. "I had… considered those. But I don't wish to harm others for the sake of my immortality."

"Hm," Kamski hums. "That is fair. Lucky for you, you have me. I can certainly pull a few favors to get some of the reagents you require. It is very possible that they have been collected before. No harm done." 

"Perhaps…" Nines mutters. 

"Consider it, Nines. Now, what else do you have?"

The two of them continue to discuss possible reagents to use, occasionally pulling additional reference materials from the table screen—which is apparently connected to Kamski's library. 

Connor half-listens, letting the voices wash over him. It's only when he feels a current of frustration from Nines that he focuses in again: "This, I don't know. 'The regret of the timeless?' A timeless being… that could be an immortal entity, or something that exists beyond time. A god? A different sort of higher being?" He sighs. "Based on the other reagents, I suspect this piece is necessary for some kind of reality alteration."

"That is likely," Kamski agrees. "Hm. Different higher beings express regret differently. Tears, perhaps. Or a token of regret—a gift of godly ichor, for instance…" He sighs. "It is rare, however, for higher beings to regret their actions. After all, most of them only do what they want to do."

Nines clicks his tongue. "I'll come back to it," he mutters, and continues on the topic of a different reagent. 

After a few hours, Kamski stands up. "Nines, are you hungry?"

"Hm?" Nines looks up from the projected screens in front of him. "Maybe?"

Kamski snorts. "Alright, time for lunch. We can come back to this tomorrow—once you're finished, meet me in the atrium." 

"Ughhhhh," Nines groans. "Fine. Let's go, Connor," he says, holding out a hand. 

"Don't complain so much, Nines," Connor laughs, sliding his hand into his brother's. "Unlike us, you do actually need to eat." 

Nines only rolls his eyes, before they're plunged into shadow. 

* * *

The days pass like so: in the mornings, Kamski and Nines work on ironing out a recipe for the Elixir. After lunch, Kamski continues to teach them magic, and then after dinner, they spend their time however they like. 

Nines usually continues to research on his tablet—or he attempts to, before Connor slaps his shoulder and insists that he take a break and draw or something. 

It works about half the time. 

Kamski also teaches them a number of surprisingly useful spells. "Engarment," for one. "Or Costume Change, as some of the new kids like to call it," Kamski tells them, laughing. 

With it, they can 'capture' outfits to change into magically, or restore them to their original states. As soon as Kamski tells them that strongly visual people can construct their own outfits, Nines gets that glint in his eye—and Connor knows that he'll be seeing a bunch of Nines's designs in the near future. 

Kamski also attempts to teach Connor the light-based translocation spell, but the process proves rather difficult, given that the vampire can't use light magic. "We'll come back to it. I'll see what I can do," their mentor says. 

After only two days, though, Connor starts feeling antsy. Fidgety. He plays with his quarter often. Nines starts to feel muffled from him, and they have to be touching to hold conversations telepathically.  _ It's alright,  _ Nines reassures him one night, right before they sleep.  _ Just a few more days.  _ Even so, Connor can feel the distant anxiety reflected in his brother's mind. 

They sleep curled tightly around each other. As if to make up for the growing distance in their minds. 

The antsiness gets to him on the fourth morning. 

_ It'd be nice to walk around a bit. _

He tells Nines and Kamski that he'll be wandering the house for a bit before he leaves the lab. The house is big enough that he doesn't feel horribly caged in, but still… 

Anxiety runs under his skin, crawling through his nerves even as he rolls his coin across his knuckles. Is it just because he hasn't been feeding from Nines? He thinks it  _ would  _ help, but…

_ Shouldn't rely on him so much. _

He can handle this. 

At some point, he wanders to a sunny corner, curling up on the couch and closing his eyes. 

When he wakes up, he doesn't remember what he was dreaming about. But faint impressions echo through him—he was nervous. He felt… scared, maybe? He can't remember. 

He suddenly realizes that he's never had nightmares here. Not with Nines right beside him. 

_ Codependent. _

Connor frowns. It sounds wrong. They're not… they're  _ fine.  _

He doesn't have any nightmares that night, with Nines. He can't deny how eased he feels knowing Nines is with him, either.

But the next morning, when he goes wandering and dozes off again. He sees… A black space. Vines. Closer. Closer. 

He wakes up with a jerk, and if he were still alive, he's sure his heart would be racing. But he can't recall the dream. 

The thirst gets to be too much that day, and Kamski gives him a blood bag when he asks. It barely helps at all. 

Once night falls and they crawl into bed, he presses his mouth to Nines's neck, breathing in his brother's scent. Crisp. Calming. "Connor?" Nines murmurs, hands carefully resting on Connor's back.

"Sorry, I just. Can I stay like this?"

Nines lifts a hand to curl through Connor's hair. "Of course. Just a few more days, okay? And then we can…"

Connor exhales harshly against Nines's neck, and his brother shivers, grip tightening. "Yeah."

He stays in the labs for most of the morning the next day, reading through the new materials Josh has sent him, but he still manages to doze off. 

He dreams that he's in a garden. It's bright, sunny. A pond. Grass. Cherry blossoms, weeping willows. Japanese architecture. 

He follows a walkway to what seems to be the center area. There's a construct in the center, some kind of stone obelisk, completely covered in roses. 

There's the sound of footsteps behind him. A thrill of fear races through him. But he can't turn around—when he tries, he notices vines curling around his feet, his legs. There's a touch at his shoulder— 

"Connor?"

He snaps awake, eyes wide, arms held defensively. A moment passes, and he realizes that he's looking into his brother's eyes, a hand hovering over Connor's shoulder. "Nines?"

"Yeah, it's me." Nines's brow furrows in concern. "Were you… having a nightmare? I thought I felt something, but…" It's harder to tell what's going on in each other's heads, now. 

"I…" Connor blinks. The memories of the dream are already slipping away. "I think so?" 

Nines frowns, settling his hand on the back of Connor's neck. It tingles with connection, and Connor hums, relaxing into the touch. 

"What's wrong?" he hears. Kamski. 

"I've just been kinda anxious lately," Connor mumbles. "Tired, I think…" He leans forward, face falling on Nines's neck. "I didn't think it would be this bad."

"Hmm. It is… concerning." Kamski sighs. "I am not entirely sure how to deal with the dependency the two of you have. The two of you seem perfectly healthy and mentally sound when I leave you two to it, but…" Another sigh, and a few seconds of pause. "One more day, at least. We shall see what happens." 

Right. Just one more day… 

That night, Connor doesn't wrap his limbs around his brother first thing. He deliberately lies on his side of the bed, staring at the ceiling. Nines frowns slightly before sliding under the covers to join him, laying on his own side. 

"Do you think," Connor asks, "that we have an unhealthy relationship?"

"No," Nines immediately denies. "Of course not. Connor—"

"I feel like I've been spiraling over the past week. I only feel better when I'm with you and—that's—that's not good, right?" He turns to Nines, and his brother's eyes flicker with… something. "I feel like I shouldn't have to rely on you so much. It's not normal, is it?" 

Nines scoffs. "Since when did we care about 'normal'?"

"Nines, I'm serious—"

"So am I." Nines props himself on his elbow, turning on his side to see Connor better. "I don't care about what's right, or normal. We're better together, aren't we?" He reaches out a hand, and Connor takes it hesitantly, lacing their fingers together. "We were supposed to be one soul," he murmurs, eyes on their hands. "Is it so bad? To be so intertwined. What matters to me most is that you're safe and happy. And…" Nines closes his eyes. "We're happy together. As close as we can be."

Connor feels like he should argue. It almost feels like a voice in his head, urging him on. Telling him that it's wrong. And yet… he doesn't want to. He can't, when every other part of him yearns for that closeness. 

"We can work on it, Connor, if you really want to." Nines is looking at him again. "We've spent days apart back when we were mundane, haven't we?"

Connor huffs. "Yeah, maybe." He looks at their hands again, the black of Nines's nails stark against their pale skin. "Can we cross that bridge when we get to it? I don't… I don't want to force any distance between us."

"Nor I."

Connor tugs their joined hands closer, and in moments, he's wrapped in his brother's warmth, foreheads pressed together. His previously unoccupied hand is in Nines's hair, and Nines's is on his back. "Nines?" He murmurs. 

"Mm?"

"Love you."

"... Love you too, Connor." 

* * *

The last day, Connor is buzzing with so much anxious anticipation that he takes to pacing just outside the lab, air filled with the muffled sounds of Nines and Kamski's discussions and the  _ pings _ of his quarter as he flips it into the air again and again. 

He's been feeling more and more  _ off  _ since he stopped feeding from Nines, and today it seems significantly worse. He hasn't bothered with any more blood bags, either—it just makes him want to bite Nines more, but the thirst is becoming extremely difficult to ignore. Not to mention the headache… 

A sudden wave of dizziness hits him, and he presses a hand to his face— 

The world is dark. Vines crawling up his legs, up his body, he can't  _ move— _

He blinks, and the world is back to normal. What was he thinking about? Nines… blood… thirst…? 

_ Almost there. _

His phone buzzes, and he fishes it out of his pocket. 

**Josh**

**_Today, 10:02 am_ **

_ Hey, Connor! The squad's  _ _   
_ _ planning to meet at Carl's  _ _   
_ _ house again for a few days  _ _   
_ _ starting today—I was  _ _   
_ _ wondering if you and Nines  _ _   
_ _ wanted to come? _

… Right, he'd never actually told Josh that they were on lockdown, huh. 

_ Kamski's already gone through the basics of combat and healing, though. It'd be nice to go outside, wouldn't it? He said that once he got through the basics… _

Right, right… 

Nines needs to return his book anyways, doesn't he? Connor should ask. 

> **_Now_ **
> 
> _ Let me ask Nines and my  _ _   
>  _ _ mentor. We're kind of on  _ _   
>  _ _ lockdown since our lives  _ _   
>  _ _ might be in danger. _

He taps the door, ignoring the notification of  **Josh:** _ wait what,  _ and after a moment, the metal slides open. Both Nines and Kamski watch him as he enters. "Josh texted me," Connor announces. "He and his friends are meeting at Carl's place again, and he asked if Nines and I wanted to come. I was thinking Nines could also take the chance to return his book? If we can go."

Kamski blinks. 

"I'd like to go, if we can," Nines speaks up, tapping a finger on the table. "I wasn't… entirely myself, last time. Tomorrow?" He glances at their mentor. "So Connor can feed from me before we go."

"Hmm." Kamski purses his lips. "I am… reluctant to expose the two of you to any increased risks. Though I suppose," he says, as soon as Connor's face falls, "Carl's house is just about as strongly warded as ours. If we were to transport ourselves directly from our property to his, the risk is low." He's silent for a few seconds. "Inform your friends of the situation. I will tell Carl. If they agree with the risk, then I will accompany the two of you there." 

Connor beams. "Thank you, Mr. Kamski!" He turns to his brother, striding next to him. "Nines! We can finally go outside.  _ Finally."  _

A hand ruffles his hair, and Connor squawks. "Nines!"

His brother snickers. "Yes, you can get your dosage of real sunlight. I still can't believe you like it. We should switch states of being." 

"Mmh," Connor hums, brushing his hair back into place. "I think if you were a vampire not only in spirit, but also in body, then you'd never bother going outside again."

Nines humors him with a moment of consideration. "You are probably right," he says, in the end, corner of his mouth ticking up in a betrayal of his amusement.

A snort sounds from his right, and Connor turns to see Kamski with a hand over his mouth. "The two of you…" He shakes his head, letting his hand fall. "I suppose a break from all this would be well-deserved." A pause. "If you like, Connor, you may feed tonight. I doubt much will change overnight, and both of you have seemed…" he grimaces. "Strung out." It's true, in Nines's case, too. He might think he's good at hiding his troubles, but his skittishness and headaches haven't escaped Connor's notice. "I apologize for causing undue stress on the both of you." He sighs. "I think I will resign myself to however you two fall together, for now."

Nines straightens slightly at that, glancing at Connor quickly before giving Kamski a nod. "I… thank you, Mr. Kamski."

_ He shouldn't encourage— _

Connor takes his brother's hand.  _ Finally.  _

* * *

The day passes by all too slowly. Connor tells Josh about the situation during lunch, while Nines is eating. 

He's about as frantic as Connor expects. He and his friends turn out to be completely fine with them coming, though—and Carl approves, as well.

Connor is grateful, relieved, and happy. Except for a small part of him that feels uneasy, a part that worries that things will go wrong. 

_ It'll be fine. Kamski is coming, as well. _

Their mentor wouldn't let anything happen to them. It'll be fine. 

By the time they get through afternoon training and dinner, Connor feels like he might vibrate out of his bones in a combination of his anxiety and anticipation. Nines shovels down his food fast enough that Chloe raises an eyebrow at him, but he pays it no mind. 

But then finally,  _ finally,  _ they're done with the day. They clean up, changing into their pajamas. Nines goes first, so by the time Connor's stepping out of the bathroom, his brother's already sitting in bed, reaching his arms out for Connor. 

Connor wastes no time in sliding into Nines's embrace, arms around his brother's back. He presses his nose to the exposed skin of Nines's neck, taking in the scent, spiked with Nines's own anticipation. 

And then he opens his jaw and sinks his fangs in. Nines sighs, back arching as he grows pliant in Connor's grip, and they reach for each other's minds, for that  _ connection— _

_ I can't let you do that. You'll ruin all my hard work. _

Something skips. The next thing he knows, Connor is staring at Nines—unconscious, lying limply, with his neck still bleeding. 

"N-nines?" He reaches forward, putting a hand on Nines's neck, shaking him by the shoulder. "Nines, are you okay?"

Nines groans, swatting at Connor's arm. "Wh… what…?"

Relief surges through Connor. "You're okay! Okay, I thought—"

_ You must have taken too much. _

"—I must've taken too much. Are you dizzy? Do you need your pills?" 

Nines gives him a confused look. "I… no, I don't think…" He winces, holding his head. "Yes… right. That's the most logical reason…" He still looks dazed, and Connor frowns. 

"Let me heal the bite and I'll grab your meds," Connor murmurs. He's not sure he trusts himself to lick the wound clean, now. He quickly seals the bite closed with his magic, Nines watching him with his still-confused expression. That done, Connor sidles over to the bedside cabinet, pulling out the drawer and taking the pills along with the cup of water they always keep there. "Here," he says, holding them out to Nines. 

When his brother only stares at them, uncomprehending, Connor frowns even more. Something seems off— 

_ There's nothing wrong. Your bite affected him more than usual, that's all. He's become unaccustomed to it.  _

That makes sense. "C'mon, Nines." Connor opens the bottle, lifting Nines's hand and pouring two of the pills into his pliant grasp. "Do you think you can take these for me?"

Nines blinks slowly, and then nods. He lifts his hand to his mouth, and then Connor brings the cup of water to his lips. Nines swallows easily, and then Connor takes away the cup and bottle, placing them back on the bedside table. 

Before he turns back around, Nines wraps his arms around his torso. "Connor?" He calls faintly. "Something feels strange… I can't… It's hard to think… "

"I—"

_ Nothing's wrong. _

"Nothing's wrong, Nines," he says, twisting around to lie down and wrap his arms around his brother. He reaches up to brush his fingers through Nines's hair, and Connor can feel the tension drain from him. "We'll be okay…"

"Okay," Nines mumbles. 

"We'll be okay," he says, again. 

He's not sure who he's trying to convince. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hint: all of the "thoughts" that are only in italics are not Connor's own  
> He just thinks they are :')


	18. Confluence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Encounters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: ~2650
> 
> Beta'd by [Ronnie Silverlake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonnieSilverlake/pseuds/RonnieSilverlake) and Lunar / [Steampunk_Chicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steampunk_Chicken/pseuds/Steampunk_Chicken)!
> 
> I drew North's true form! She doesn't actually take it at any point in this fic but I just love designing fae  
>   
> Posted on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/Ausp_ice/status/1269976072876994560)!

Nines wakes up with his head spinning. 

He's been having headaches on and off for the past week, and he's wondered if it was due to a withdrawal from the psychic connection he had with Connor. Speaking of, last night, they—… 

Wait. What happened last night? 

He sits up, extracting himself from his brother and holding a hand to his head. He remembers… Connor bit him. Right? And then afterwards… 

The spinning worsens. 

"Nines?" Connor mumbles sleepily, sitting up. "Are you okay? I think I took too much last night."

That… would explain the dizziness. Right? Something feels off, but he can't put his finger on it. "I think I'm alright," Nines answers. "I don't… I don't feel you, though?"

Connor guiltily fiddles with the blankets. "I might've knocked you out before we established a connection? Maybe I was too overeager." 

That… that still doesn't seem right—

The world tilts as the dizziness worsens again, and he notices Connor stabilizing him, hands on his shoulders. "Nines?"

What was he thinking about just now… ?

"Hey, are you still okay to go to Carl's today?"

Nines blinks, straightening. "Yes—yes, of course. I've been holding onto his book long enough."

"Okay…" Connor eyes him suspiciously. But he doesn't protest. "C'mon, let's get ready, then," he says, pulling Nines up. 

His earlier uneasiness is nearly forgotten, then. 

Nearly. 

(He can't hold onto it, for some reason.)

* * *

He goes to eat breakfast, Connor making pancakes and Chloe making some bacon she'd recently acquired, before returning to the labs with Connor to meet with Kamski. 

Nines thinks they've gotten pretty close to crafting the full composition of the Elixir, and Kamski has gotten started with gathering some of the materials. 

If their theory is correct, the Elixir will give him eternal youth, immunity to illness, and rapid regeneration. He'd still need to eat—starvation or severe injuries would send him into a healing coma. It's more advanced than Flamel's formula, Nines presumes, but he thinks it's worth the extra effort to make him harder to kill. 

That extra effort also necessitates a number of incredibly rare ingredients. He might have to ask North for a favor. The 'regret of the timeless' is also a concern. They've surmised that the 'timeless' is a higher being that exists beyond time. So, a god-class entity… 

Or a high-class demon. The most powerful ones drift in the void of the netherworld—a timeless existence, unless they are called upon. As they are for deals. 

"Don't even think about it," Kamski told him as soon as he brought it up. "You are not putting yourself in mortal danger to acquire your reagents."

"... Fine."

They table the discussion as lunch comes and goes, and then it's finally time for their visit to Carl's. Kamski gives both Connor and Nines a warding charm—it'll buy them some time to escape if they're attacked, at least. 

"If the demon appears, avoid engagement if possible. It should not be able to breach the wards, but you never know…"

Without further ado, Kamski places his hands on Nines and Connor's shoulders, pulling them into darkness. Daylight breaches the void, and then they stand before Carl's residence. 

Unlike last time, the area is blanketed with snow—the walkway leading up to the mansion has been mostly cleared, but the surrounding plants have all been blanketed by white. The sky is mostly overcast, save for a few gaps that shine with the glow of afternoon sunlight. 

Nines had thought it an excellent opportunity to try constructing winter clothes with Engarment—he's currently wearing a thick gray coat of his own design, in addition to black gloves. He also made a relatively insulating coat for Connor: a dark wine red, geometric design. He's quite happy with it. Technically, the cold wouldn't feel as biting to Connor or Kamski, but temperatures low enough could make their joints uncomfortably stiff. Even Kamski has opted to wear a thicker set of his robes. 

They trudge up to the entrance, Nines's breath the only one that fogs up the air. Connor steps ahead a bit to ring the doorbell. A few murmurs sound from inside, and then there Markus is, opening the door. He blinks for a moment, eyes widening at the sight of Kamski, but quickly steps aside to let them in. "Hey, welcome. At least one of you must be cold—please, come in."

They file in: Connor first, followed by Nines, and then Kamski. Nines immediately dismisses his coat and gloves in a wash of his pale magic, leaving him only in his regular clothes. A black turtleneck, of course. 

Markus raises an eyebrow at that. "You know Engarment already?" 

Nines nods. "It's among the more practical spells. Mr. Kamski deemed it fit to teach us not too long ago." 

"Nines has been using it to design outfits," Connor adds. "He's an artist at heart."

"Really?" Markus's face lights up. "Carl's an artist, too, actually! He paints." 

Kamski chuckles. "Still at it, I see."

Their host blinks, and then immediately gives Kamski a bow. "Apologies for not introducing myself earlier. I'm Markus, Markus Manfred," he rises, "but you probably already knew that."

Kamski inclines his head. "Elijah Kamski, but you probably already knew that, as well. I am glad to see you and Carl seem to be doing well." 

"He's been better," Markus murmurs, before turning slightly. "Come on, everyone else is already in the living room." 

They follow Markus to the aforementioned room—as promised, everyone is there. Simon and Daniel are sitting on two sides of a couch, North is lying sideways and taking up all the space on another couch, and Josh is on his own chair. Carl is off to the side a bit, sitting in a wheelchair—turning around as they enter.

"Well, well… look who decided to show up," Carl says, a smirk teasing at his mouth. "How long's it been? Ain't got much time left, you should visit more often."

Kamski rolls his eyes. "Good to see you as well, Carl." Something pinches in Kamski's face at the mention of Carl's mortality, though, and Nines suspects that his mentor is not as at peace with it as Carl seems to be. 

"Carl," Nines calls, stepping forward and holding out _Legendary Alchemists_. "Thank you for allowing me to borrow your book."

"Just leave it on the table," Carl waves, "I'll get it later. How'd you like it?"

"It was very… enlightening. I am now attempting to achieve immortality."

Carl's eyebrows lift. "... I can't say I'm surprised, given your situation. Hope it goes well."

"Thank you, Carl." Nines tilts his head. "Perhaps you'd like to speak with Mr. Kamski for a bit? It seems the two of you may have a lot to catch up on."

"Trying to get the old men out of your hair, eh?" Nines starts to protest, but Carl only chuckles. "I'm just pulling your leg. It's true, though. Come on, Elijah, let's leave the youngsters be."

Kamski scoffs in amusement, shadow-stepping behind Carl to take his wheelchair. "We'll be in the studio," he says, and then both of them vanish into shadow. 

Nines becomes suddenly aware of the eyes on himself and Connor. "What," Connor mumbles, shifting on his feet. 

"You could have mentioned that _Elijah Kamski_ is your mentor," Josh says through a strained smile. 

"It didn't seem relevant?" 

"He has his own Wikipedia page!"

Connor shrugs. 

North snorts. "In the big picture, it probably isn't all that relevant. Interesting, though? Very." 

"I'll concede your point on that one," Nines replies dryly as he pulls Connor to sit down with him on a free couch. 

"You said you're trying to achieve immortality?" Simon asks. "How?"

"The Elixir of Life, hopefully." Nines hums. "Mr. Kamski has many… useful resources."

Daniel snorts. "Yeah, I'd imagine."

"Still," Nines begins haltingly. "North. You wouldn't happen to have any tears to spare, would you?"

The fae's eyebrows raise. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't." 

"If you do, would you be willing to offer them? In exchange for something, perhaps?"

"Hmm. What would you offer?"

"What would you want?"

"Hey!" Markus slaps the table. "No dealmaking in my dad's house."

North snorts. "Well, I'll think about it. Anyways," she says, switching the way her legs are crossed, "So the two of you have got a demon coming after you two, huh?"

Straight for the elephant in the room. Nines nods. "So it seems."

"Talk about unlucky," Daniel huffs. "It's just one thing after another with you two." 

Nines shrugs. "It is what it is. Frustrating, but…"

"Not much we can do about it but hold out until we're strong enough to fight back," Connor finishes. 

"Fight back—" Markus stands. "Connor, if it's a high-class demon—that's suicide. Sorcerers are lucky to _survive_ a conflict with one."

"Nines and I are strong. Mr. Kamski expects we'll be powerful enough in a few years."

"Well, either he's wrong or you two are ridiculously powerful." Markus crosses his arms. "Plenty of sorcerers don't even dream of going head-to-head with higher beings." 

North speaks up. "Well, they might be. I can feel their magic even now." She pulls an arm over the back of the couch. "We can always do an aura pressure contest. See how much raw power they have."

"A what?" Connor tilts his head in confusion. 

"North!" Simon protests, while Josh sighs heavily. "Ugh. It's basically a flexing contest between magical individuals. I only know about it because _someone,"_ he shoots North a glare, "keeps encouraging them."

"It's a bit of a pain to sit through them if you don't have magic." Daniel sighs. "That means me, Simon, and Josh."

"Stop complaining," North grins, turning around to prop her chin in her hands. "I shield you all, anyways. You're all just weak!"

"Um," Connor raises his hand. "That's great and all, but I don't think Nines and I know how to do the pressure thing." 

"Just focus on calling your power forward and holding as much as you can at the brink of actualization," Markus instructs. "Like this," he says, closing his eyes. The air around him starts to shift, and a faint outline of pale light shines from him. And then, Nines starts to feel it. He sees now, why it's called _pressure—_ it truly feels as if there's a weight pressing on him. 

Connor stiffens next to him, just slightly. Nines grabs his hand, sending a questioning feeling, and gets _holy magic—instinctive fear._ Fair enough. He notices similar responses in Simon and Daniel, though less pronounced, while Josh just looks ill. "Hey," the latter calls, "North hasn't shielded us yet." 

"Oh." The pressure immediately drops, and Markus straightens. "Sorry." He turns back to them. "Basically, the contest is just to see whose pressure is the strongest. North judges if it's close, but it's also pretty clear who the winner is if someone starts keeling over."

"Makes sense." Nines hums, turning to Connor. "Would you like to?"

Connor shrugs. "Sure, why not?" 

So Nines, Connor, and Markus end up standing in a triangle within a clear area of the living room. North makes a gesture in front of Josh, Simon, and Daniel, and then waves a hand over the room—the air seems to shimmer, before going back to normal. "There. Now you can all go ham without worry of harming anyone, anything, or setting off all the magic detectors in the region." 

Convenient. 

Markus gestures for them to go ahead. "You two can start, in case you need a minute to figure things out."

"Alright," Nines murmurs, closing his eyes. Calling his magic forward is easy, though—

"Nines! You're freezing the floor—don't actualize it!"

"Ah. Sorry, Markus," he says. He tamps it back, finding an equilibrium point—there. It almost feels like a well, in which he can pool his power into. He opens his eyes to see Markus smiling at him. 

"There you go," the other sorcerer says. "Connor?"

"Think I've got it…" Connor hums, and then something seems to click, as Nines starts feeling pressure from him, too. It distinctly feels like Connor's magic: warm and familiar. "There," he says, opening his eyes, now shining with gold. 

"Great," Markus grins, and then his pupils start to glow, too. "C'mon, let's ramp it up."

Nines nods, and focuses on gathering as much power as he can. Their pressures seem to climb at a similar rate, steadily increasing. It starts to become a little harder to breathe, a little harder to stand. Markus seems to be sweating, a bit. 

Their climb slows as it increases, until—Connor's hand shoots forward to grab Nines's, and he feels something _align._ Harmonize, even, as he breathes in sharply and loses the ability to tell where Connor's magic ends and his begins. 

There's a thud—they turn to see Markus on one knee, supporting himself with one hand, watching them with wide eyes. "You weren't kidding," he says, strained. 

North claps, drawing their attention. Simon is holding his head, as if he has a headache, while Daniel is sitting with his arms crossed, head down, face pinched. Josh looks like he might pass out or upend the contents of his stomach. 

"I think you two have proven your point," North says dryly. "You can stop…" She trails off, eyes widening, as brilliantly crimson lines etch themselves beneath Nines, Connor, and Markus's feet. 

A magic circle? How—?

Suddenly, he's enveloped in crimson light, and the floor is gone from under his feet. He gasps in alarm—and hears exclamations from Connor and Markus, as well. 

He observes several things instantaneously: they are just outside the property of Carl's house. They are falling from quite a few feet above the ground. 

And 'Amanda' is standing right below them, crimson magic swirling around her. 

_"Shit—"_ Nines curses. He does the first thing he can think of, latching onto the presence of the two others with them and tugging on all of them with shadow—he can't stop their fall completely, but manages to land them safely on the ground a ways off from 'Amanda.' 

"An extra," he hears the demon say as he starts picking himself up from the snow. "No matter." Before he can react, he hears a crackle—and thorny vines are shooting towards him and Connor. 

There's a _ting_ like a bell and a flash—and the vines disintegrate as they meet a shield of pale light. It gives the three of them enough time to scramble to their feet.

The demon frowns at them. "Warding charms…"

"What's happening?" Markus asks, frantic. "Was that teleportation hers?"

"Yes," Nines answers, "She's the demon, but how did she—?"

"With the amount of magic you gathered, it was a simple matter to redirect it to my own uses." She waves a hand, outlined with a stark crimson, and the shields shatter. Before she can act again, though, a beam of light shoots towards her from the sky, and she leaps back to dodge. Nines quickly glances back to see Markus holding a hand up, two fingers out. 

"Well, well… a holy sorcerer. How lucky for you. But still not enough." Vines tear out of the snow, whipping towards them again. Nines freezes them in place with a thought, and Connor takes the opportunity to shoot a bolt of heated light from his hand. 

The demon dodges, barely, the bolt singing her clothes. And then Nines trips as something wraps around his ankle— 

"Nines!"

He looks up to see a pointed vine coming at him far too quickly— 

Only for a wall of darkness to slice through it, separating the three of them from the demon. A hand pulls him up forcefully. "I told you not to engage." As the wall of darkness fades, he becomes aware that he's being pressed to Kamski's chest, dragged towards Connor—"We're leaving. Now." 

As soon as Kamski touches Connor, they're pulled into the freefall of darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also made some concept art for their outfits this outing :>  
> 
> 
> Full size [here](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/701176050574557236/714471996246720552/image0.jpg).


	19. Bloom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: ~1850  
> Getting to the fun part :3c
> 
> Beta'd by [Ronnie Silverlake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonnieSilverlake/pseuds/RonnieSilverlake) and Lunar / [Steampunk_Chicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steampunk_Chicken/pseuds/Steampunk_Chicken)!

Their exit from the shadows is as abrupt as their entry—Connor stumbles out of the darkness onto the snow-covered area outside the door to the house, kept upright only by the hand clasping his arm. 

"Go inside," Kamski says, letting both him and Nines go before pushing them none too gently towards the door. "I'll return shortly." And then he vanishes, leaving the two of them in the snow. 

Connor blinks, and then immediately turns to his brother, running his hands across Nines's arms, patting him down for injuries. "Are you okay? I saw you fall—"

"I'm fine, Connor," Nines says tiredly, catching Connor's hands in his own. "Not hurt, except for some bruised knees, maybe." 

Connor immediately sets to healing them, letting go of Nines to hover his hands over Nines's knees—and gets a chuckle in response. "I'm alright. Come on, let's go inside," Nines murmurs, setting a hand on Connor's shoulder. 

Connor stands, taking Nines's hand back in his own. "Okay…" 

As soon as they approach the door, Chloe opens it. "Connor, Nines," her voice is surprised. "You're back early. Elijah left again?"

"We were attacked by the demon." Nines squeezes Connor's hand. "Mr. Kamski most likely returned to Carl's house to take care of things there."

"Oh," Chloe says, eyes wide. "Are either of you hurt?" Both of them shake their heads, and Chloe sighs. "That's a relief. Come on, it's too cold for you two to stay outside."

They make their way indoors, following Chloe without thinking too much about where they're going. As it turns out, she's leading them to a living room, where she gently pushes them to sit and throws a blanket around their shoulders. Nines blinks in surprise. 

"I don't know how close of a call it was, but I'd imagine being in mortal danger for the first time can be pretty shocking." Chloe smiles wryly. "Though for better or worse, I suppose it's not Connor's first time." 

… Right. 

"Nines?" Connor prods. "Are you really okay?"

He gets a shrug in response. "I don't think it's sunken in, yet." 

Connor frowns, and lifts his hands to pull Nines's head to his chest before starting to drag his fingers through his hair. "We're safe now, Nines."

His brother gives a soft hum, fisting the fabric of where he clutches Connor's back. Chloe sits next to them, watching them with a concerned expression.

Connor's phone buzzes then, and he fumbles in his pocket for his phone while still maintaining his ministrations on his brother's hair. 

**The Crew**

**_Josh:_ ** _ are you two okay?? Connor and Nines, that is. Mr. Kamski and Markus came back in a bit ago—your mentor looks like the living embodiment of an impending storm.  _

**_Josh:_ ** _ Carl wouldn't let us go outside, so all we knew was that the three of you got sucked into that magic circle, and then there was something going on outside.  _

**_North:_ ** _ It was the demon, wasn't it _

Nines makes a questioning sound. 

"Josh and the others are asking after us," Connor informs his brother, before typing out a reply.

**_Connor:_ ** _ Yes.  _

**_Connor:_ ** _ Nines and I are safe. Mr. Kamski brought us back home. _

He doesn't get the chance to wait for a reply—Kamski suddenly materializes in front of them, face just as stormy as Josh suggested. His arms are crossed, folded into his sleeves. 

"Is everyone okay?" Connor immediately asks. 

"Yes. The demon left shortly after I returned. It did not continue its attacks."

Connor gives a soft, relieved sigh. "That's good to hear."

"Hm." He levels his gaze at them. "Unhurt?" He asks curtly. 

"We're fine," Connor answers, voice small. 

Kamski frowns, stepping closer and lifting a hand. Connor tenses, clutching Nines tightly, and their mentor falters. 

"I'm not—" he lowers his hand. "I was just going to check."

"We already did," Nines murmurs, turning to face Kamski. "Connor healed the few bruises I had when I came back. And Connor wasn't hurt." 

Kamski's jaw clenches, and he seems to struggle with himself before sighing heavily, dropping to his knees in front of them. "Alright," he says, hands on his lap. Not reaching for them, though it seems he wants to. "Alright. He lifts a hand to cover his eyes. "I… I can't lose the two of you as well." He laughs bitterly, and it almost sounds like a sob. "Everything I touch… everyone I try to hold close dies. I have to wonder if I am doing something wrong." 

"You're doing the best you can," Nines answers him. "And that's all anyone can do." 

"It's not your fault," Connor adds. "It's just… unlucky. And isn't your brother still alive?"

"Yes," Kamski laughs again, lowering his hand. "And I wonder if it is my deliberate distancing from him that has spared him." 

Ah, of course. He did it deliberately, after all. Connor shakes his head. "I don't buy that. Are you cursed?"

"Ha! No. I ran countless tests to make certain of that years ago."

"Can you think of other reasons why people close to you are dying, other than unlucky coincidence?"

Kamski sighs. "Simply associating with me increases the likelihood of interacting with dangerous magical entities."

"But you have protections against them, don't you?" Nines counters, sitting up a bit but still resting his head on Connor's shoulder. "Your brother is already associated with you, and eventually, the wrong entity might find out. If you stay together, you can at least make sure he's safe yourself."

Their mentor purses his lips. A few seconds pass before he answers. "Coincidence or not, the facts remain. Death seems to follow me."

Connor and Nines both sigh. Such a fear, even if irrational, is hard to uproot. 

"I'll leave you two to rest," Kamski murmurs, standing up. "Chloe, with me."

"Yes, Elijah." Chloe stands, gently touching Connor's shoulder as she goes. "Take care, alright?"

"Alright," Connor echoes. 

Kamski takes Chloe's hand, and the two vanish into darkness. 

— 

Neither Connor nor Nines do much for the rest of the day. They sit together, thinking of nothing, letting the hours creep by. Connor reassures Markus that they're fine, when he keeps prodding them. And the others too, when they 'just want to make sure.' 

Dinner is quiet, and before long, they're in bed. Nines pulls him close, clinging to him tightly. "Can you bite me, Connor?" He asks, barely audible. 

He wants to say yes. He wants to say it, but something almost seems to be  _ blocking  _ him, mentally. "I'm… sorry. Maybe tomorrow morning?"

Nines clenches his jaw, squeezing Connor tighter. "Okay."

He closes his eyes, then— 

And finds himself in a Japanese garden. 

"You're finally here."

He looks up, and sees—'Amanda.' She's wearing silvery robes, holding a blue Japanese parasol. Smiling gently. Her pupils shine with an unnatural red. 

"It was rather difficult to get so far undetected. It was very lucky for me, for the two of you to have deliberately attempted to distance yourself. I only needed to encourage it a bit." She walks closer, and Connor tries to take a step back—but he can't move. He looks down at himself to see vines ensnaring his entire body, thorns digging into him. He can't feel it. 

"Your souls are so intertwined, I nearly had to possess both of you at the same time." She laughs softly. "I almost did. Your dear brother is about halfway there. I just got through to you first." 

"What's…" his mouth feels thick, unwieldy. "What's happening?" 

"Oh, Connor," she says, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. "You're mine, now."

_ Connor!  _

He's no longer in the garden. He's… staring into Nines's eyes. He's straddling his brother. There's a tight grip on his arms, which are… 

Loosely wrapped around Nines's neck. "Nines?" Connor asks. "What's happening to me?"

"You've been possessed," his brother whispers. "I'm sorry. I should've noticed." Nines lifts a hand towards Connor's face. "It seems she's been trying to exacerbate the divide between us. You have to drink." He pries Connor's mouth open, pressing his thumb sharply on Connor's lower fangs—

Connor's grip on Nines's neck tightens against his will, and his head tries to pull itself away from Nines’s hand. But even as Nines tenses under him, he grips Connor's face with relentless force—and his blood starts to spill over Connor's tongue. Connor sucks greedily, taking as much as he can. The sparks of connection flicker between them, but then— 

Nines's grip starts to weaken, and Connor becomes suddenly aware that he's strangling his brother. He tears his hands away, falling backwards onto the floor. Distantly, he's aware of Nines taking gasping breaths, but Connor's busy trying to fight for control of his body. 

His vision flashes between the garden and vines, and the dim light of his room. His limbs twitch violently. 

_ Relax, Connor, and make this easier for both of us.  _

"N-no, no, no…"

"Connor," comes a hoarse voice. 

The next thing he knows, he's running. Running away, out, out,  _ somewhere he can't hurt Nines— _

From one moment to the next, he's outside, standing in the swirling snow. Outside the property. Out of the wards, he realizes too late, when something snaps into place in his mind, and he's no longer fighting for control. Something…  _ shifts,  _ something changes. He lifts his hands and sees them darken into black, dangerous claws.

_ He _ is in control.

But he's no longer himself. 

_ "Connor!"  _ he hears. Turning around, he sees Nines running towards him—only to be stopped by a hand shooting out of suddenly-forming black smoke. His brother fumbles, nearly falling, save for the hand holding him up.

"Nines, stop!" Kamski shouts, pulling Nines back as the rest of him forms out of the darkness. "He's outside of the wards, if you go you'll be killed!"

Nines looks at Kamski, then back at Connor. "What—"  _ God,  _ he sounds hoarse, "What about Connor?"

"I don't know," Kamski says. "We have to capture him and conduct an exorcism, but I don't know what he's capable— _ hey, no—!"  _

Nines disperses into shadow, and suddenly, he's right in front of Connor, ramming into him. Arms hook around him, around the back of his neck, around his waist.  _ I won't let you go.  _

Connor lifts trembling hands to squeeze back, one hand on his brother's head, the other hooked around his shoulder. "Why," he asks. 

Nines responds by squeezing tighter. Connor turns his gaze up to see Kamski looking at them, a look of horror etched on his face. "He loves me so much, Mr. Kamski." 

He can feel himself starting to shake. From fear? Despair? Sorrow? Something else? "He loves me so much that he'd die for me." He smiles, and can feel liquid dripping out of his eyes. Crimson magic starts swirling around him. 

"No matter how far you go, Connor. I'll bring you back," Nines murmurs from where he's pressed against Connor's shoulder.

Connor laughs, closing his eyes. "Alright. Alright, brother. Then let's go to Hell."

_ "No—!" _

He lets himself fall backwards, taking Nines with him.

The crimson magic pulses with power, overtaking their vision, overtaking everything—

And then, nothing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you are wondering how Amanda's possession works: At first she and Connor were fighting for control. After Connor steps out of the wards and loses the last of their protection, Demonda (Demon Amanda) sinks her metaphorical claws into his soul and takes over his will itself. Connor still thinks of himself as himself, but his goals, morals, etc. have been shifted to Demonda's.
> 
> Art is posted on dA [here](https://sta.sh/0thqtopm08d).


	20. Descension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: ~3640
> 
> Are n'yall ready? :>
> 
> Beta'd by [Ronnie Silverlake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonnieSilverlake/pseuds/RonnieSilverlake) and Lunar / [Steampunk_Chicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steampunk_Chicken/pseuds/Steampunk_Chicken)!
> 
> Also, here's concept art of possessed Connor!  
>   
> Full view [here](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/699307854217216001/714868492469403780/image1.jpg).

Nines opens his eyes. 

He's surrounded by grass, flowers, trees—cleared around a stone walkway, bridging over a pond to lead to a center region. It's nighttime, and what little he can see of the sky looks like an impending storm. 

His neck is uninjured, and he rubs it absently. Is this… a dream? He last recalls… falling, clinging to— 

He stiffens. "Connor?" He calls. 

_ Come to the center,  _ he hears in his mind. Nines barely hesitates before he's making his way there. 

Some kind of obelisk stands in the very center, completely subsumed by roses. Before Nines can get much closer, he hears a step behind him. "Hey, Nines."

He turns around to lay eyes on his brother. Only… his sclera are black, and his pupils are slitted, glowing with crimson. He's wearing a dark red shirt with loose sleeves going to his elbows, revealing his arms completely overtaken by black. His fingers curl into claws. A set of black horns come out of either side of his forehead, a primary horn with two secondary spikes on each side. Black wings rise out of his back.

The transformation has progressed significantly from when they fell. 

"Hello, Connor," Nines replies softly. 

His brother smiles, revealing his array of black teeth. "Walk with me?" Nines nods, and approaches. Connor falls into step with him, and both of them continue down the path. 

"Is this a dream?" Nines asks.

Connor shrugs. "In a way. We're in the demon's realm, and existence here is… strange. I  _ can  _ say that if we die here, our real bodies will die, too."

"I see…"

They trail by the edge of the pond. "It's so strange," Connor murmurs. "It's like I'm myself and  _ her  _ at the same time. I love you, but I have to kill you. And there's no conflict in my mind."

Nines closes his eyes briefly, nodding. "Was that the deal? Killing us?"

"More or less. Weisenfeld wanted me to suffer loss, though. She wanted you dead first, and then me, after I've had the chance to experience the anguish of your death."

Nines reaches over and takes Connor's hand. The blackened skin is smooth to the touch. Connor blinks in surprise, glancing down at their hands before looking up again. "Are you scared of me at all?"

"Not of you, Connor." Nines shakes his head. "Never of you.  _ For  _ you?" This corner of his mouth lifts in a wry smile. "Perhaps a little too much." 

An echo of his words when Connor was turned.

Connor laughs, squeezing his hand. "Of course. Come on," he says, gesturing to a wooden bench. "Let's sit." Nines lets Connor lead him to the bench, and they both sit down. Connor drapes a wing over Nines's shoulder, and after a moment, Nines leans onto his brother, resting his head on Connor's shoulder.

They're surrounded by the quiet rustling of the trees, the murmuring of the water. It's so peaceful here. 

"It is, isn't it?" Connor lifts a hand and places it on Nines's head, before gently dragging his claws across his scalp. Gently enough that it's still just as comfortable as always. Nines closes his eyes. "This is one of Amanda Stern's favorite gardens. She was a nature sorcerer—she liked to design gardens like this in her free time."

Nines hums in response, and Connor chuckles breathily. "You know, the demon might as well be Amanda. They needed a root to this plane, and Weisenfeld offered her dead mentor. The demon got her memories, her form, her magic… just with a set of goals according to the deal." Connor sighs. "I think she wanted to see Amanda again, even if it was like this." 

"I see…" Nines feels something on his legs, then, and he opens his eyes to look down and see—vines, crawling up from the ground to his legs. He jerks slightly in surprise, but Connor's grip on him tightens, keeping him from moving.

"Shh, shh… relax, Nines," Connor murmurs into his ear. "It won't hurt at all. It'll be just like falling asleep." Nines forces himself to untense, despite how hard his heart is pounding. "That's it. Don't be scared, I'll be right with you until the end."

Nines looks up at his brother, and sees him watching Nines's face with rapt attention. His eyes shine with unshed tears—and then with a blink, they start to drip down his face. "It won't be long," Connor whispers.

Nines grips Connor's shirt, right over his chest. "She's—the demon. She's taken over your soul, right?"

Connor nods, continuing to brush his fingers through Nines's hair. "She's rooted deep within my very self." 

The vines are up to Nines's waist, now. He relaxes his grip, splaying his fingers over his brother's unbeating heart. He tries to  _ reach— _ and the world wavers. "Nines?" Connor's ministrations have stopped.

He's not sure what'll happen if he keeps pulling. Whatever happens, he doesn't have long—the vines are already to his chest. But no matter what… "I won't let you go, Connor." 

Connor laughs, and presses his lips to Nines's hair. "Of course you won't. Alright, brother. Come get me." 

So Nines closes his eyes and  _ pulls  _ on their connection as hard as he can— 

It's nighttime. The city. Trees, open air. With a start, he realizes he's in the park that Connor used to like to take walks in. The very park in which he was attacked, and everything changed.

"Connor?" He calls. 

No answer, but—there's a flash of light behind him, and he turns around to see a brilliant bloom of blades of light. They disperse into nothingness, revealing one body on top of another. 

Nines immediately runs over, shoving away the body on top to reveal Connor below, covered in blood. "Connor!" He pats his brother's face, pressing down on the bite wound on his neck. "Connor, are you—"

His eyes open, and slide over to meet Nines's gaze. Normally colored, except for the crimson shining in his pupils. "This is where it all began, Nines. Where I doomed us."

Nines tightens his grip. "We're not doomed, Connor. We're still here."

"Not for long, though." Connor smiles, and his sclera bleed to black, horns sprout out of his head, his hands darken and sharpen into claws. In a movement too fast for Nines to intercept, his hand is wrapped around Nines's throat. Nines immediately jerks, hands shooting to his neck as he's robbed of oxygen. "I'm impressed that you could come here. But injuries here are injuries on your soul." Ah. Those would be very difficult to heal. "If you die here, your soul will perish, and your body with it."

_ You don't want this, Connor,  _ Nines manages. He reaches down as his vision darkens, pressing on Connor's chest.  _ Let me in.  _

Connor closes his eyes, just as everything turns dark. 

It snaps to brightness very suddenly, and his nose is filled with the smell of antiseptic. A hospital. He's standing, and there are… not  _ people,  _ but shadowy impressions of where they would be. 

He recognizes this hospital. He knows where to go.

The hallways are bright and sterile, and he eventually comes to a stop in front of a waiting area. There's a set of double doors labeled with  **OPERATION IN PROGRESS** , and a bunch of chairs lining the walls. All empty, save for one—occupied by his brother. 

His head is lowered, and it looks like he's sleeping. But that illusion is broken when he looks up, eyes raw from tears and exhaustion. Pupils shining with red. "This is where our parents died," he says, smiling.

"So it is," Nines replies, coming closer and sitting down on the seat next to Connor. He takes one of his brother's hands, running his thumb soothingly over the skin, just as he had then. 

"Despite everything, they did take care of us," Connor murmurs. "They wanted us to be happy. Successful. But after this, it really was just you and me."

Nines nods. 

And then Connor grabs his hand, pulling him forcefully and slamming him to the floor—knocking Nines's breath out of him. Once Nines gains his bearings, he sees Connor transformed again, clawed hands poised over Nines's heart, ready to pierce. "If you die here, you won't see them. There'll just be… nothing."

"And you?" Nines asks. 

"And then I'll be free of  _ her _ just long enough to scream, before dying here, too." 

Nines slides his hand into Connor's threatening claws, lacing their fingers together. He reaches up with his other hand to touch Connor's chest. "I won't let that happen," he whispers, closing his eyes, before everything is washed away.

Nines jerks awake in bed. In a moment, he catalogues the familiar setting—a twin size bed, one window. Yelling downstairs.

He's in their old house. Before Kamski, and before their apartment. A look down at himself informs him that he's still his twenty-two year old self, however. 

He looks over to see a lump on the other bed, and the sight hits him with such… nostalgia? That he takes a moment to just center himself. And then he climbs out of his bed to settle on the side of Connor's, just as he had so many times all those years ago. 

"Hey, Connor," he says, setting a hand on the lump. 

"Mom and Dad are arguing again," he hears, muffled. 

"I know."

"I hate it."

"I know. Me, too." Nines carefully pries off the blankets to see his brother, curled into a ball. He's younger—maybe around ten or eleven. His pupils shine with red, when he opens his eyes to meet Nines's gaze.

"I want them to stop," Connor says. "I want everything to stop."

Nines shushes him, gently thumbing away the tuft of hair at his forehead. "I'm right here, Connor. Just hold on a little longer."

Connor's gaze is piercing as he stares at Nines. "You know," he says, "The deeper you go, the harder it is to get out. And everything will accumulate once you do pull out: injuries, magical and physical exhaustion. Even if you manage to survive, who's to say you won't be stuck sleeping in here forever? And that forever is a long time. Time flows slower and slower the farther you go. It's probably been less than half a minute since you started from the garden."

Nines closes his eyes. "If it means you can be free, then it's worth it. I'd do it for you again in a heartbeat."

"I know," Connor murmurs, before pulling Nines's hand to his chest.

When Nines opens his eyes, he's in the garden again, but everything is in a blue-tinged monochrome, frozen in time. Thorny vines have grown over all the other flora, curling around all the structures, as well. They bloom with brilliantly crimson roses, stark against the cool blue. 

His eyes are drawn to the center, where he sees—Connor, bound to the obelisk, vines entrapping his entire body. His eyes are closed, like he's asleep. Nines's breath catches, but before he can take more than a few steps, a crimson wall stops him. 

"You've gotten very far," says a voice from behind him. 

He turns around to see Connor, completely shifted into his demonic transformation. Red light spills from his mouth as he speaks. "But I'm afraid I can't let you go any further." He holds out his hand and the air pulses with energy, before coalescing into Connor's favored blades of heated light—one for each claw. "This ends here." And he rushes forward. 

Nines barely dodges by shifting into shadow. He realizes that it's not so simple when he feels a burst of pain as Connor's light-claws slice through his smoky form—when he re-forms, he realizes there's a gash in his side. He hisses, pressing his hand to it. 

"It's very unfortunate for you that my affinities counteract yours very effectively. Light to your darkness. Heat and fire to your cold and ice." Connor flexes his fingers, and Nines barely gets a warning from the sudden concentration of magic—he sidesteps just as the place he was standing at bursts into flame, and before Connor can manipulate the fire into any other form, Nines pulls water from the nearby pond to extinguish it. 

Connor hums. "I suppose your water might be troublesome, but you have no counter against my light. You will die here, brother." 

"No," Nines bites out. "Neither of us are dying." But… He can't defend forever, and attacking Connor is just—no. No. 

He snaps his hand up, materializing a sheet of ice over his arm as Connor rushes him again. The claws slow as they make contact with the ice, but the sheet immediately starts to melt. Nines quickly ducks and tries to freeze Connor in place with a wave of his hand.

It works for about a second before there's a hum of  _ heat,  _ and the ice shatters. Nines isn't fast enough to dodge when Connor plunges his claws into Nines's shoulder, and he cries out as it flares with a burning, piercing pain.

Connor freezes, long enough for Nines to pull out Connor's hand and shadow-step away, clutching his shoulder as he materializes. He watches as Connor blinks at his hand, and then straightens. 

"I know you're in there, Connor," Nines calls. "Fighting." 

"I  _ am  _ Connor," he says, and throws his arms wide. 

Nines's eyes widen as energy sparks through the air, and then—blades of light form all around him. 

He can't dodge all of them, he realizes. But he can try. So as soon as they start to rush towards him, he shadow-steps as fast and as far as he can.

He emerges into physicality with a gasp, falling to the ground. He's  _ burning— _ his legs, his arms, his body. It hurts, and he can't help curling into himself. 

Footsteps approach, and Nines opens his eyes to see Connor standing over him. His face is pinched with… something. 

Nines won't be able to dodge or defend from any more attacks in this state. "I'm sorry, Connor," he whispers. "I love you."

Connor's eyes flicker, but after only a second, he forms a long blade in his hand. Nines doesn't look away. He meets Connor's eyes as he raises the blade, and— 

Drives it into his own heart. 

Nines's eyes widen as the blade shatters, and Connor falls to his knees. "No," he hears himself saying. "No, Connor, no, please." He barely notices his pain as he scrambles to his knees to catch Connor at the shoulders, clinging tightly as the dead weight sags against him.

"'M sorry, Nines," Connor murmurs weakly against Nines's shoulder. "Couldn't."  _ Stop myself. Save you. Save us.  _ "I think I killed both of us."

"No." Nines presses his hand to Connor's bloodied chest, ignoring the way the blood spills all over his hand. "No. I'm not giving up on us. I'm not giving up on you." 

He reaches, again, as far as possible, as far as he can go, to the very, very core of Connor's soul— 

Emptiness. 

Nines stands in a completely white space. Blank. He blinks, and then Connor is there, in a seated position, eyes half open, staring at nothing. There are hands on his shoulders, belonging to the one standing behind him—'Amanda.' And above her, a swirling mass of light, stained with black, that looks like it has properties of both fire and water. It flickers like flames even as it drips with the dark inkiness of the stain, the threads curling around the demon in swirling patterns.

"Hello, Nines," 'Amanda' says. "Congratulations. You made it."

"What is this place?" Nines asks, stepping closer.

"Where the two of you began. The core of your souls. Where the two of you are so intricately linked." The demon smiles gently. "Don't worry. I can't hurt either of you here."

Nines hums, kneeling in front of Connor and taking his brother's hands in his own. No reaction. 

"You know," the demon says, "In most ways that matter, I  _ am _ Amanda. Despite everything, it has truly been a pleasure to see Elijah open up to his own students. To see the two of you grow under his care. If she were still alive, she would be proud of him. Of both of you."

"Why are you telling me this?" Nines murmurs. 

'Amanda' sighs. "Sam's resentment burned quickly and intensely, but truly, it is nothing in the face of the eternity of a demonic mind. To me, the eternity and intricacy of the bond the two of you have is far more interesting than petty revenge."

Nines blinks slowly. "You… don't want to kill us?"

"It would be more interesting to see what would come of the two of you, that's all," she says lightly. "But so long as this soul acts as my root to reality, I am bound by contract."

Nines looks up at the point of energy floating above them. "Is that her soul?"

"It is." The demon pauses, and then, "If you are not aware, you have a talent for soul magic. It is how you manipulate your brother's magic so easily. How you strengthened your bond so tightly. Both of you are capable of it, actually, but you, Nines, can easily manipulate the intricate weave of souls. If you so desired, you would be able to sever my link to Sam's."

Is she suggesting…? Nines stands, reaching a hand out to one of the inky threads. And suddenly, his mind is flooded with— 

_ "I can turn you. We can live together in eternity." _

Flashes of faces, echoes of sheer  _ devotion.  _

_ "You're not supposed to go out alone yet. You don't know if you can control yourself—" _

_ "It's been months! Almost a year. I'll be fine. How much longer would it have to be, anyways?" _

_ "I expect it'll be a few more years." _

He sees Connor's sire, dragging a hand down his face.  _ "It'll be fine. You trust me, right? I'll stay away from humans…" _

Suddenly, intensely— 

_ He lied, he LIED— _

_ No, no, that human killed him. Of course. Of course! It's his fault. _

Simmering resentment, and then— 

_ Me? Why am I being sued—it's not my fault! He lied! That—that human is the one that killed him! _

_ It's his fault that he's gone.  _

_ His fault. _

Twisting, distorted anger. 

_ Let's see how he likes it to lose the person that matters most. _

Nines snaps his eyes open, tightly gripping the thread. 

The demon watches him. "Her blinding love became warped into suffocating hate. She did not wish to accept that her love was… unbalanced. She summoned me, then. And when I asked for a root, she offered her soul and Amanda's memory." She sighs. "She perhaps wished to see her mentor once more before she forfeited her existence to me."

"I…" Nines swallows. "I see." 

A few seconds pass. "Well?" 'Amanda' tilts her head towards the soul. "Go on, then."

Nines nods, closing his eyes. He extends his senses, and feels—Connor, muted, but there. Like a lightbulb turned to its lowest brightness—choked, almost, by the tendrils of energy wrapped around him. Nines follows the trail to the demon, a burning, brilliant star in his mind's eye. And then he traces the ties binding it to Weisenfeld's soul, a point of scalding anger and bitter resentment. 

Disentangling Weisenfeld's soul is surprisingly simple. He suspects it's because the demon isn't resisting. A simple press at the bond, a burst of energy like a switchblade snapping open, and the soul is unbound. As soon as that's done, the demon releases Connor both metaphysically and physically, and he sags into Nines's arms. 

And then, something snapping back, and Nines is—falling. No. Yes? Falling in reverse. He's holding Connor's bloodied chest, feeling his life ebb away. He's comforting Connor in bed. He's on the floor of the hospital, Connor poised to kill him. Connor's hand is around his throat. 

And then, they're sitting on a bench in the Japanese garden. Connor's hand is in Nines's hair, and Nines is laying on his brother's shoulder. The claws are gone.  _ All _ of his demonic features are gone, and so are the vines. 

The clack of sandals sounds in front of them, and Nines lifts himself up to see 'Amanda.' She's smiling at them gently. Her form is starting to waver at the edges. "Welcome back," she says. 

"Nines?" Connor groans, shifting next to him. 

"Connor," Nines immediately hugs him fiercely. "You're back. You're back." 

Connor huffs lightly, squeezing back. "Yeah… Yeah. Thanks for coming to get me." 

"As much as I hate to interrupt," the demon interrupts, "Our time is limited. This space will soon collapse. I will send you back to the physical plane before then." As she speaks, Nines can see the edges of the garden start to fragment, pieces disappearing into a black void. "I'm afraid I don't know exactly where you will end up, but it should be somewhere within or near Detroit, at least." 

Nines nods. "Okay."

'Amanda' looks at him, a pensive expression on her face. And then she closes her eyes, something glimmering slipping out of her eye—she catches it in her hand, and then grabs Nines's hand to set it in his palm. It's a brilliantly crimson gemstone, in the shape of a teardrop. 

"The regret of the timeless," she murmurs. "If you survive, it should be sufficient." Her eyes flash, and Nines can feel her command his magic, accessing his magical storage—the same he uses for Engarment. With a flash of pale magic, the gemstone disappears.

She steps back, then. "When you return to the physical plane, all the injuries on your souls will accumulate onto your physical body. Are you ready?"

Nines meets Connor's eyes. They grab each other's hands, and then turn back to Amanda and nod. 

She smiles. "Then, goodbye. Good luck. You'll need it."

A flash of crimson light consumes them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearing the end! But it's not over yet.


	21. Suspension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not over yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: ~1170
> 
> Beta'd by [Ronnie Silverlake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonnieSilverlake/pseuds/RonnieSilverlake) and Lunar / [Steampunk_Chicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steampunk_Chicken/pseuds/Steampunk_Chicken)!
> 
> Also, I totally forgot to add some concept art in Chapter 18 (Confluence) so, for the record, there is some at the end of the chapter!

Reality returns like a slap to the face. It's cold, the wind is howling, ice is whipping around them. 

A blizzard. 

Connor doesn't have a lot of time to think about it, though, because a sudden burning pain pierces his chest, and he screams. His voice is swallowed by the wind. 

There are hands on him, pushing his writhing body down. "Nines," he sobs, "Nines," he knows he doesn't need to breathe, but it suddenly feels like he can't. 

Nines might be saying something to him, but he can't hear. He can't focus. Everything is slipping away. 

And then his face is being pressed to a warm neck, pulsing with life. "Drink," he hears, and he barely thinks when he bites down harshly, pulling a cry from the throat he's latched onto. 

His mind swims with pain and cold and— _ connection,  _ finally, slotting into place like a missing piece. 

_ I've got you. Take as much as you need. _

The pain in his chest ebbs away slowly as he swallows greedily. A haze crawls over his mind, and he loses himself in the finally-fulfilled thirst, in finally-fulfilled connection. He barely notices when he pushes Nines over into the snow, biting harder, taking and taking and taking. 

_ Everything… will be alright… okay? Mr. Kamski… will find us… just… hold… on… _

The words register somewhere distant in his mind, but he's  _ gone. _ There is only him, and the blood, and his thirst. 

He doesn't stop, until the pain in his chest is gone, and the blood in his mouth is cold, and Nines isn't pressing Connor to his neck anymore. He doesn't stop, until awareness snaps into place like a knife in his heart, and he realizes how motionless his brother is. How cold he is. Connor jerks back. "Nines?" 

His brother doesn't respond. His eyes are closed. He's as pale as death, and colder than ice. The bite on his neck barely even bleeds. His shoulder is bloodied from where Connor had pierced him, and his neck is bruised from where Connor had strangled him, not to mention all the other wounds hidden under the clothes. Connor lifts a shaky hand to start healing him. Physically, at least—considering that the damage to their souls is something neither of them know how to heal. Connor still feels off-balance, despite how much he's fed. How much blood he's taken from his brother. 

He's careful to separate his own blood from Nines's as he guides the magic to weave the wounds together. He'd probably end up dead if Nines got turned, in the end—Kamski had made sure he could do that fairly early on. 

Once the wounds close and the bruises fade, Connor lays a hand on Nines's chest. It's cold. He can't feel anything. He presses his fingers to Nines's neck. Nothing—but maybe, maybe, it's just the blizzard and the wind, too much noise in the signal. Right?

"Please…" he hears. A desperate sound, barely audible over the wind whipping around him. "Nines, please." He leans close, ear over Nines's mouth. He can't tell if he's breathing. "Please, I can't. You can't do this to me." 

Connor clutches his brother close, trying to spread warmth across him with his magic. Nines doesn't get any warmer. It just seems like he's getting colder and colder. "Please!" 

And then he remembers—Kamski. Kamski can help them. He fumbles in his pockets for his phone, desperately turning it on. "Please, please," he begs anything, anyone who would listen. 

It turns on. He immediately tries to dial Kamski, but—there's no signal. "Shit," his joints are stiffening from the cold. He tries to text, but the signal is blocked, still. "No, no," he sobs. His tears freeze on his lashes. 

Where are they? He can't see anything in the snow. But maybe. Maybe, there's something, someone nearby who can help. 

Connor calls his magic to him, melting the ice on his eyes, loosening his joints, trying to heat his brother to no avail. Connor hoists Nines into his arms, clutching him closely as he starts walking through the storm. 

It's exhausting. He's already drained from fighting, healing, soul-diving or whatever that was. The demonic possession, too. He feels raw, like molten lead was poured through his nerves and then scrubbed clean. His magic flickers like a candle in the wind, and more than once, his knees lock up and he almost falls over. 

But he won't let Nines hit the ground. He won't let Nines die. He keeps his magic focused on him, because there's nothing else he can do to help.

(He ignores the part of him that tells him that Nines is already gone. Because he can't. He can't. He wouldn't leave Connor alone. Just like how Connor would never leave Nines alone.)

It's only when he sees diffuse lights in the distance that his legs buckle, and he can't stop himself from falling to his knees. He still manages to keep Nines from slipping, cradling his brother in his lap. 

Connor tries to stand again, but it's so cold, and his joints are so stiff, and everything's so, so, heavy. He can't. So Connor pulls Nines to his chest, hugging him fiercely, as if he could cling to his brother tightly enough that he won't go. He doesn't realize he's crying, keening, rocking back and forth, until tears are frozen on his face again. He doesn't melt them away. 

And then. A flicker of black smoke before his eyes. A hand reaching out of the darkness, and then an arm, a leg, and then—Kamski. Connor watches, eyes wide, as their mentor emerges from the smoky darkness, hair a mess of windswept strands covered in snow. He lays his eyes on them, and falls to his knees, taking a hand from each of them. Connor notices as a mark on his wrist fades.

"M-Mr. Kamski," Connor says, barely audible over the wind. "Nines is so cold. I can't tell if he's breathing. I can't tell if his heart is beating. I tried to keep him warm. But he's still so cold."

Kamski's face flickers, and he pulls Nines away from Connor's chest so that he's lying across Connor's lap. His brother's face looks so peaceful. Like he's asleep.

Their mentor lifts a hand, resting it on Nines's neck. Kamski clenches his jaw, and then moves over to Nines's mouth. His face pinches. 

"Mr. Kamski?" Connor asks, voice small. Hoping.

Kamski lifts his hand, and black smoke coalesces around it, before he places it on Nines's chest.

A moment passes, and the smoke fluctuates. Kamski's eyes widen. "He's alive. He's—his soul is still here." He gestures with both hands before holding them both over Nines, the smoke wavering as he focuses on Nines's body. "A cryostasis spell," he breathes after a moment, looking up at Connor. "He'll be alright." 

It's all Connor needs to hear. The tension in him snaps like a string, and he falls forward.

The last thing he's aware of is Kamski calling his name.


	22. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 1254
> 
> Beta'd by [Ronnie Silverlake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonnieSilverlake/pseuds/RonnieSilverlake) and Lunar / [Steampunk_Chicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steampunk_Chicken/pseuds/Steampunk_Chicken)!

When Nines felt the cold seeping into him, blooming across his entire body, he wasn't sure he'd ever wake up again. 

He hoped—but he wasn't sure.

Awareness comes back slowly, in bits and pieces.

_"Ridiculously strong—neutralize—"_

_"-ansfusion, now! That spell saved his life, he needs—"_

_"-sorry. I'm sorry. Please come back. I love you, Nines."_

He opens his eyes. It's daytime, the light filtering through a wide window off to the side. The ceiling is white, blank, and he hears the steady beeping of an ECG. 

There's a weight next to him, and the hum of a familiar connection. A hand intertwined with his. "Nines?" 

He hums, eyes falling closed again. 

"Nines, are you awake?" The voice is nearly desperate. Nines opens his eyes again to find himself face to face with Connor—leaning over him. 

Nines blinks. "Hello, Connor."

The next thing he knows, he's wrapped in a familiar embrace. "I thought I lost you," he hears, muffled. "I thought—"

Nines clutches his brother's back. "I could say the same to you."

"Do you realize how much blood you lost? How much I—" _Took._

"Do you realize how close you were to death?" Nines counters. "Light-based injury to the _heart,_ Connor."

Connor sniffs, and Nines stops. "I'm just really glad you're okay," his brother says wetly. "It's been five days. Your spell was really strong."

"My what?"

Connor sits up, giving Nines a look. The image is marred by the tears on his face, though. "You cast a cryostasis spell on yourself. It literally froze you at the brink of death."

"Oh."

Connor sighs, wrapping himself around Nines again. "Of course you don't notice casting an advanced spell on yourself," he mumbles. "You fucking idiot."

"Same to you," Nines murmurs, closing his eyes, pressing himself close. To his brother, whole, himself, alive. Kind of alive, anyways.

"I can definitely agree that the both of you are 'fucking idiots,'" comes a familiar voice. 

Connor shifts, and both of them turn to see Kamski standing at the foot of the hospital bed. He's dressed in a more casual robe, and his hair is undone. He looks tired, despite the fact that he always has shadows under his eyes, regardless. 

"Hello, Mr. Kamski," both of them say in unison.

Their mentor rolls his eyes. "Alright, if you're speaking in sync, you're fine." He comes closer, though, pulling up a chair to sit next to them. "But as I was saying. What the _hell_ were you thinking, Nines, when you went after Connor? If a single thing had gone differently—" Kamski hisses out a breath, letting his head fall into his hands.

"Sorry," Nines mumbles. "I was… I was thinking that I couldn't let Connor go alone. I'd do it again if I had to."

"I know." Kamski drops his hands. "The two of you are going to be the death of me." 

Nines laughs breathily, letting his eyes fall closed. "Sorry." 

"That's just how it is," Connor adds, brushing the hair away from Nines's forehead. It must be so greasy by now.

And then he remembers with a start—"Oh, right—" he sits up, Connor assisting him, and holds out a hand towards Kamski. Magic gathers in his palm, and then—the gemstone appears in its place, emanating a crimson light through its facets.

Kamski's eyes widen as he takes it. "A Demon's Tear. A top-grade one, at that…"

"The regret of the timeless," Nines recites. "The final piece, more or less." He lets his gaze slide to the ceiling. "The demon said that she might as well have been Amanda. She had all the memories, the magic, everything…" Nines sighs softly. "She said Amanda would be proud of you. And of us." 

Kamski's breath hitches. Nines catches him clenching the Tear in a fist. "I see," is all he says. 

A moment passes. "Would the two of you mind if I hugged you?" Kamski asks quietly.

Nines exchanges a glance with Connor, before they both turn to their mentor. "Go ahead," Connor replies. 

And then Kamski has an arm around each of them, squeezing tightly. They squeeze back just as much. 

* * *

Nines is discharged from the hospital that day. Connor stays with him the whole time, from the moment he woke up, to the discharge, to Kamski taking them back home in a flurry of shadows. 

Chloe hugs them fiercely once they're back. "I'm so glad you two are okay," she breathes. 

Kamski catches them up on what happened. Connor woke up after two days of soul healing and recovery, while Nines took longer due to the complexity of his spell, in addition to his own soul healing. Weisenfeld's soul was returned to her body, which was in the custody of the DPD. It's likely she'll be executed for her crimes, once she's turned over to the magic authorities. 

As it turns out, most of what they thought were 'withdrawal effects' of Connor not feeding from Nines were exacerbated by the possession. "That's the last time I try to increase the separation between you two," Kamski notes dryly. 

They were gone for nearly a week. Time must have warped while they were in the demon's realm. Kamski doesn't go into the details of what he did in the interim, but they suspect that it wasn't easy. 

Chloe tells them later that Gavin was a crucial support for him in that time. 

Nines and Connor spend the next few days idle, most of their time spent curled around each other, basking in the knowledge that they're _okay._ And that the threat looming over them is no more. 

On the third day, in the evening before they sleep, Kamski appears in front of them in a whirl of black smoke. He holds a small vial of clear, blue-tinted liquid, glowing faintly. Nines's eyes widen. "Is that…?"

Kamski smiles, and carefully places it into Nines's hand. "Once the formula was complete, I brought it to Flamel. Your fae friend was generous to gift me some of her tears for you, too. And now," he curls Nines's fingers around the glass. "It's complete."

"So if Nines drinks this, he'll be immortal?" Connor asks. 

Their mentor nods. "As soon as he wakes up. It will likely cause a transformative coma for a day or two." He steps back, leaving Nines staring at the vial. "You can drink it as soon as you are ready."

Nines hesitates, looking at Kamski, then at Connor. And then he takes a breath, before twisting off the lid. He lifts the vial in the air. "Well," he says. "To eternity." And then he downs the entirety of the vial in one gulp. 

It's a flavor he can't describe. Or rather a sensation, setting sparks crackling in his body, even as it spreads a cool numbness. He barely notices as the now-empty vial is eased out of his hand, and he's lowered to the bed. It's becoming difficult to keep his eyes open. 

"Get some rest, Nines," he hears distantly. "I'll be right here when you wake up."

He closes his eyes.

* * *

Wakefulness seeps in like the rising tide of the ocean. He hums, stretching, only to be blocked by a weight wrapped around him. 

The weight shifts, lifting away, and Nines blinks his eyes open to the morning light. 

He feels… renewed. Better than he's ever felt, physically. He turns slightly, meeting his brother's wide and curious eyes. "You're awake," Connor says, grinning. 

"So I am."

Connor wraps his arms around him. "Welcome to immortality." 


	23. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of a journey that seemed so long yet so short.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 623

One of the nice things about Nines being immortal is that Connor can drink from him as much as he likes. 

Right after his brother wakes up, Connor latches onto his throat for nearly half an hour. They spill into each other's minds, blending until they don't know where one starts and the other ends. Melding into a connection like they never have before, forgetting everything around them as they embrace both physically and mentally. 

It's different. Even though the soul healers did their jobs well in mending the worst of the damage to their souls, Connor can almost  _ feel  _ the aberrations left behind. With the memories of the incident come distortions in their landscape, physical scars and mental wounds that only time can heal. 

It's different, but still familiar. They're still here, still together, still whole, if a little worse for wear. They wouldn't ask for anything more.

They only stop when Kamski finds them like that, and it's only when he coughs that they realize he's there. "Good to see you're awake, Nines," he smiles. "And taking advantage of your immortality already, I see."

Things go back to normal after that—though actually, they never really  _ had  _ a normal, did they? First it was Connor turning, then Nines shutting down from the realization that he'd grow apart. Then his foray into seeking immortality, and then the demon, and everything to do with that. 

So it probably isn't right to say that they go back to normal. No, they find a  _ new _ normal. Kamski teaches them magic, Connor cooks with Chloe and helps with the garden. Nines draws, and gets the chance to learn more about the supernatural world from Kamski and his library than he ever could have from their old university. Connor, on the other hand, strikes an agreement with their university to take his classes online so he can still get his degree. Kamski also tells him that he can take him through supernatural criminal investigation in the future.

He's still interested in becoming a criminal investigator one day, after all. It'll be different, doing it as a vampire and a sorcerer, but that'll hardly stop him. 

Nines joins the group chat with Josh and the others. He doesn't talk much there, but he scrolls through the messages, sometimes, a half-smile on his face at their antics. 

Gavin visits, at some point. Connor and Nines leave him to talk with their mentor, until Kamski all but drags them to the dining table to eat together. 

It's awkward as hell—Nines and Gavin are the only ones eating, after all, and the conversation is about as stiff as one might expect—but it's nice, to have their…  _ family _ all together. Connor hopes that Kamski allows himself to reconnect with his half-brother, and judging by what he's seeing, their mentor's giving it a shot. 

Everything had changed, that day in the park. It took a long time to adjust, with one thing after another. But now… 

"Do you regret any of it?" Nines mumbles, from where he's curled against Connor as they lie in bed, sated after another feeding. Connor's fingers absently play with his brother's hair. 

Nines asks him, but they both already know the answer. Maybe Nines and Connor both get nervous around roses now, and Connor gets skittish during snowstorms. Maybe their entire lives before this were uprooted, and they were shoved into this situation without much of a choice. Maybe they have to deal with both being immortal now, frozen in time as the world ages around them. But even so, "No. Not at all."

"Good," Nines whispers, breathing softly against Connor's neck. "Neither do I."

Because, in the end, after all is said and done— 

They have each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the end! I've really enjoyed writing this fic, and I hope you all enjoyed it, as well!
> 
> If you'd like to see a full timeline of events, [here](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/553631974934446101/723022176638205992/unknown.png) you go.
> 
> Special thanks to my betas, who've helped me spin out plenty of new ideas along the way: [Ronnie Silverlake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonnieSilverlake/pseuds/RonnieSilverlake) and Lunar / [Steampunk_Chicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steampunk_Chicken/pseuds/Steampunk_Chicken)!
> 
> A thank you to everyone in the New ERA server who's yelled at me and discussed ideas!  
> And of course, thank you to everyone who's taken the time to comment! I'm always happy to hear what people think, and it's been great seeing what you've all been willing to share.
> 
> I will say: I don't plan for this to be the end of this series! I have more plans for these magic lads - if you're interested in seeing more, feel free to bookmark and/or subscribe to the series! I don't know when I'll get around to it, but one day. One day, we'll see. 
> 
> I've also written a fic detailing Kamski's situation in the week Connor and Nines were gone! You can read it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24775603). 
> 
> Art is on dA [here](https://sta.sh/0w1hzy5enzv).
> 
> Also, here's a concept of Nines's pajamas, which I made for We Are RK but will now speckle in all my fics:  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> Check me out on social media:  
> Deviantart: [Ausp-ice](https://www.deviantart.com/ausp-ice)  
> Tumblr: [@ausp-ice](https://ausp-ice.tumblr.com/)  
> Instagram: [@ausp.icium](https://www.instagram.com/ausp.icium/)  
> Twitter: [Ausp_ice](https://twitter.com/Ausp_ice)
> 
> I'm also in [Detroit: New ERA](https://discord.gg/GqvNzUm) server!


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